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KLEGG: 

SI AND SHORTY MEET MR. ROSENBAUM, 

IM THE SPY, WHO RELATES HIS ADVENTURES 

'■ * 

BY JOHN MCELROY 




BOOK No. 3 


Published by The National Tribune, Washington, D. C. 













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I 




SI AND SHORTY AS MOUNTED INFANTRY. 
(chapter VIII.) 


SI KLEOQ 


Si and Shorty meet Mr. Rosenbaum, the 
Spy, Who Relates His Adventures 


By John McElroy. 



PUBLISHED BY 

THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE CO., 
WASHINGTON, D. C. 



SECOND EDITION — ENLARGED AND REVISED, 
COPYRIGHT 1910 
BY THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE CO. 




©CLA^689i3 


PREFACE 


“Si Klegg, of the 200th Ind., and Shorty, his 
Partner,” were born years ago in the brain of John 
McElroy, Editor of The National Tribune. 

These sketches are the original ones published in 
The National Tribune, revised and enlarged some- 
what by the author. How true they are to nature 
every veteran can abundantly testify from his own 
service. Really, only the name of the regiment was 
invented. There is no doubt that there were several 
men of the name of Josiah Klegg in the Union 
Army, and who did valiant service for the Govern- 
ment. They had experiences akin to, if not identical 
with, those narrated here, and substantially every 
man who faithfully and bravely carried a musket in 
defense of the best Government on earth had some- 
times, if not often, experiences of which those of Si 
Klegg are a strong reminder. 


The Publishers. 


X 


C ON TENTS. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE. 

Chapter I. — Out on Picket — The Boys Show the Deacon a 

New Wrinkle in the Culinary Art .* 15 

Chapter II. — Rosenbaum, the Spy — The Jew Tells the Thrill- 
ing Story of His Adventure 24 

Chapter III. — The Deacon Goes Home — Shorty Falls a Vic- 
tim to His Gambling Propensities 38 

Chapter IV. — A Spy’s Experience — Mr. Rosenbaum Tells 

the Boys More of His Adventures 53 

Chapter V. — The Boys Go Spying — On an Expedition With 

Rosenbaum They Make a Capture 68 

Chapter VI. — Letter From Home — The Deacon’s Troubles 

in Getting Home With Abraham Lincoln 84 

Chapter VH. — Corn Pone and Buttermilk — Si and Shorty 

Go Foraging and are Captured and Robbed 94 

Chapter VIH. — A Period of Self-disgust — Si and Shorty 

Have an Attack of It, Followed by Recovery loy 

Chapter IX. — Shorty Gets a Letter — Becomes Entangled in 

a Highly Important Correspondence 123 

Chapter X. — Trading With the Rebs — The Boys Have Some 

Friendly Commerce With the Rebel Pickets 136 

Chapter XL — Shorty’s Correspondent — Gets a Letter From 

Bad Ax, Wis., and is Almost Overcome With Joy 150 

Chapter XH. — The Ban on Wet Goods — Si Has a Hard 

Time Trying to Keep Whisky Out of Camp 164 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


PAGE. 


Chapter XIII. — The Jew Spy Writes — Shorty Has an Ad- 
venture With a “Lone, Lorn Widder Lady.” 179 

Chapter XIV. — Shorty Has an Adventure — With Si He 

Goes Out to Visit Mrs. Bolster 192 

Chapter XV. — Shorty Nearly Got Married — Breaking Up a 

Bad Rebel Nest is No Picnic 205 

Chapter XVI. — An Unexpected Marriage — The Boys Cap- 
ture Rebels and Administer the Oath 223 

Chapter XVII. — Gathering Information — Si and Shorty 

Work a Trap and Land Some Prisoners 235 

Chapter XVIII. — The Jew Spy Again — Mr. Rosenbaum Re- 
cites a Thrilling Experience 248 


CONTENTS. 


xii 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE. 

Mr. Klegg Enjoys Solid Comfort i6 

“Surrender, There, You Dumbed Rebel.” 21 

Trying to Save His Neck 30 

“I Know You, Unt What You’re Here For.” 32 

The Negroes Merrymaking 39 

Mr. Klegg Starts for Home 45 

Shorty Settles With the Banker 51 

A Close Call for Rosenbaum 54 

The Spy in Custody '. 58 

Rosenbaum Runs Into Sigel’s Pickets 66 

Watching the House 75 

Bolivar and Rosenbaum 77 

The Surprise 79 

Undesirable Acquaintances 100 

The Spoils of War 105 

An Uncomfortable Situation 107 

Shorty and Si are at Outs no 

Si and Shorty as Mounted Infantry 117 

Bushrod Prays for His Life 119 

The Duel 139 

The Overture for Trade 144 

Si Wants a Fight 147 

Shorty Wants to Fight Groundhog 157 

Shorty Reading the Letter 160 

“She Whipped Out a Long Knife.” 189 


CONTENTS.- 


Xlll 


PAGE. 

“Take Your Arms From Around That Yank’s Neck.” 203 

“Jeff Sat Up and Rubbed Himself.” 207 

“Old Bragg Used to Walk Up Unt Down, Growling Unt 
Cussing.” 259 


THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 


TO THE RANK AND FILE 


OF THE GRANDEST ARMY EVER MUSTERED FOR WAR 


CHAPTER 1. 


OUT ON PICKET — THE BOYS SHOW THE DEACON A 

NEW WRINKLE IN THE CULINARY ART. 

« 

S OME days later, Si had charge of a picket- 
post on the Readyville Pike, near Cripple Deer 
Creek. The Deacon went with them, at their 
request, which accorded with his own inclinations. 
The weather was getting warmer every day, which 
made him fidgety to get back to his own fields, 
though Si insisted that they were still under a 
foot of snow in Indiana. But he had heard so 
much about picket duty that, next to battle, it 
was the thing he most wanted to see. Abraham 
Lincoln w’as left behind to care for the '‘house.’* 
He had been a disappointment so far, having de- 
veloped no strong qualities, except for eating and 
sleeping, of which he could do unlimited quantities 
"No use o’ takin’ him out on picket,” observed 
Shorty, "unless we kin git a wagon to go along and 
haul rations for him. I understand now why these 
rebels are so poor ; the niggers eat up everything 
they kin raise. I’m afraid, Deacon, he’ll make the 
Wabash Valley look sick when yon turn him loose in 
it.” 

‘■1 guess my farm kin stand him,” said the Dea- 
con proudly. "It stood Si when he was a growin’ 
boy, though he used to strain it sometimes.” 

They found a comfortable fence-corner facing 


16 


SI KLEGG. 


south for their “tent,” which they constructed by 
making a roof of cedar boughs resting on a rail 
running from one angle to another. They laid more 
boughs down in the corner, and on th’s placed their 
blankets, making a bed which the Deacon pronounced 



very inviting and comfortable. They built a fire 
in front, for warmth and for cooking, and so set up 
housekeeping in a very neat and soldier-like way. 

The afternoon passed without special incident. 
Shorty came in with a couple of chickens, but the 


OUT ON PICKET. 


17 


Deacon had learned enough to repress any ques- 
tions as to where and how he got them. He soon 
became more interested in his preparations for cook- 
ing them. He had built a big fire in a hole in the 
ground, and piled a quantity of dry cedar on this. 
Then he cut oif the heads and legs of the chickens, 
and, getting some mud from the §ide of the road, pro- 
ceeded to cover each, feathers and all, with a coat- 
ing nearly an inch thick. 

“What in the world do you mean by that. Shorty?” 
asked the Deacon in surprise. 

“He’s all right. Pap,” assured Si. “He’ll show you 
a new wrinkle in chicken-fixin’ that you kin teach 
mother when you go home. She knows more about 
cookin’ than any other woman in the world, but I’ll 
bet she’s not up to this dodge.” 

The fire had by this time burned down to a heap 
of glowing embers. The boys scraped a hole in 
these, laid on it their tv/o balls of mud, then care- 
fully covered them with live coals and piled on a 
little more wood. 

“I’ll say right now,” said the Deacon, “that I 
don’t think much o’ that way. Why didn’t you take 
their feathers off and clean out their innards? 
Seems to me that’s a nasty way.” 

“Wait and see,” said Shorty sententiously. 

Si had mixed some meal into a dough in the half- 
canteens he and Shorty carried in their haversacks. 
He spread this out on a piece of sheet-iron, and 
propped it up before the fire. In a little while it 
was nicely browned over, when Si removed it from 
the sheet;iron, turned it over, and browned the other 
side. He repeated this until he had a sufficiency of 
2 


18 


SI KLEGG. 


“hoe cakes’" for their supper. A kettle of good, 
strong coffee had been boiling on the other side 
of the fire While this was going on. Then they care- 
fully raked the embers off, and rolled out two balls 
of hard-baked clay. Waiting for these to cool a little, 
they broke them. The skin and feathers came off 
with the pieces and ;:evealed deliciously savory, sweet 
meat, roasted just to a turn. The intestines had 
shriveled up with the heat into little, hard balls, 
which were thrown away. 

“Yum — yum — yum,” said Shorty, tearing one of 
the chickens in two, and handing a piece to the 
Deacon, while Si gave him a sweet, crisp hoe cake 
and a cup of strong coffee. “Now, this’s what you 
might call livin’. Never beat that cookin’ in any 
house that had a roof. Only do that when you’ve 
stars in the roof of your kitchen.” 

“It certainly is splendid,” admitted the Deacon. 
“I don’t think Maria could’ve done better.” 

It was yet light when they finished their supper, 
filled their pipes, and adjusted themselves for a 
comfortable smoke. One of the men came back and 
said: 

“Corporal, there’s a rebel on horseback down the 
road a Mttle ways who seems to be spying on us. 
We’ve noticed him for some little time. He don’t 
come up in good range, and we haven’t fired at him, 
hopin’ he’d come closer. Better come and take a 
look at him.” 

“Don’t do anything to scare him off,” said Si. 
“Keep quiet. Me and Shorty’ll sneak down through 
the field, out of sight, and git him.” 

They picked up their guns and slipped out under 


OUT ON PICKET. 


19 


the cover of the undergrowth to where they could 
w^lk along the fence, screened by the heavy thicket 
of sumach. Catching the excitement of the occa^ 
sion, the Deacon followed them at a little distance. 

Without discovery Si and Shorty made their way 
to a covert within an easy 50 yards of where the 
horseman sat rather uneasily on a fine, mettled ani- 
mal. They got a good look at him. He was a young, 
slender man, below medium hight, with curly, coal- 
black hair, short whiskers, a hooked nose, and large, 
full eyes. He wore a gray suit of rather better 
make and material than was customary in the rebel 
army. He had a revolver in his belt and a carbine 
slung to his saddle, but showed no immediate inten- 
tion of using either. His right hand rested on his 
thigh^ and his eyes were intently fixed on the distant 
picket-post. 

‘‘A rebel scout,” whispered Si. ‘‘Shall we knock 
him over, and then order him to surrender, or halt 
him first, and then shoot?” 

“He can't git away,” said Shorty. “I have him 
kivered. You kivver his boss's head. Then call him 
down.” 

Si drew his sights fine on the horse's head and 
yelled : 

“Surrender, there, you dumbed rebel.” 

The man gave a quick start, a swift glance at the 
blue uniforms, and instantly both hands went up. 

“That is all right, boys. Don’t shoot. I'm a 
friend,” he called in a strong German accent. 

“Climb down off o' that boss, and come here, and 
do it mighty sudden,” called out Si, with his finger 
still on the trigger. 


20 


SI KLEGG. 


The horse became restive at the sound of strange 
voices, but the man succeeded in dismounting, and 
taking his reins in his hand, led the horse up to • 
the fence. 

“Very glad to see you, boys,” said he, surveying 
their blue garments with undisguised satisfaction, 
and putting out his other hand to shake. 

“Take off that revolver, and hand it here,” ordered 
the wary Shorty, following the man with the muzzle 
of his gun. The man slipped his arm through the 
reins, unbuckled his revolver, and handed it to 
Shorty. Si jumped over the fence and seized the 
carbine. 

“Who are you, and where did you come from?” 
asked Si, starting the man up the road toward the 
post. 

“What rechiment do you belong to?” asked the 
stranger, warily. 

“We belong to Co. Q, 200th Injianny, the best 
regiment in Gen. Rosecrans's army,” answered Si 
proudly, that the captive might understand where 
the honor of his taking belonged. 

“That is all right,” said the stranger, with an air 
of satisfaction. “The 200th Indianny is a very good 
regiment. I saw them whip John Morgan’s cavalry 
at Green River. Clumsy farmer boys, but shoot like 
born devils.” 

“But who are you, and where did you come from?” 
repeated Si impatiently. 

“I’m all right. I’m Levi Rosenbaum, of Gen. Rose- 
crans’s secret service. I got some news for him.” 

“You have?” said Si suspiciously. “Why didn’t 
you ride right in and tell it to him? What’ve you 


OUT ON PICKET. 


21 


bin bangin’ around here all afternoon, watchin’ our 
post for?” 

“I wasn’t sure you was there. I was told that the 
Yankee pickets was going to be pushed out to 



Cripple Deer Creek to-day, but I didn’t know it for 
sure. I was afraid that the rebels was there yet. 
Jim Jones, of the secret service, had agreed to 
come out this afternoon and wave a flag if it was all 



22 


SI KLEGG. 


right. I was waiting for his sign. But he is prob- 
ably drunk. He always gets so when he reaches 
camp.” 

The Deacon joined them in the road, and gave a 
searching glance at the prisoner. 

“Ain't you a Jew?” he inquired presently. “Ain’t 
your name Bosenbaum? Didn’t you go through 
Posey County, Ind., a year or two ago, with a wagon, 
sellin’ packs o’ cloth to the farmers?” 

“I’m an American citizen,” said the man proudly, 
“the same as the rest of you. My religion is He- 
brew. I don’t know and don’t care what you re- 
ligion is. Every man has the religion that suits 
him. My name is Rosenbaum. I did sell cloth in 
Posey County, unt all over Indianny. It was good 
cloth, too, unt I sold it at a bargain.” 

“It certainly was good cloth, and cheap,” admitted 
the Deacon. “What in the world are you doin’ down 
here in them clothes?” 

“I’m doing just what these men are doing here 
in their cloze,” answered Rosenbaum. “I’m trying 
to serve the country. I’m doing it different from 
them, because I’m built different from them. I hope 
I’m doing it well. But I’m awfully hungry. Got 
anything to eat? Just a cup of coffee and a cracker? 
Don’t care for any pork ” 

“Yes, we’ll give you something to eat,” said 
Shorty. “I think there’s some of our chicken left. 
You’ll find that good.” 

“How did you cook that?” said Rosenbaum, looking 
at the tempting morsel suspiciously. 

Shorty explained. 


OUT ON PICKET. 


23 


“Thanks; I canT eat it/* said Rosenbaum with a 
sigh. “It ain't kosher." 

“What the devil's that?" asked Shorty. 

“It's my religion. I can't explain. Send for the 
Officer of the Guard to take me to Headquarters," 
answered Rosenbaum, sipping his coffee. 


CHAPTER 11. 


ROSENBAUM, THE* SPY — THE JEW TELLS THE THRILL- 
ING STORY OF HIS ADVENTURE. 

T he Officer of the Guard was a long time in 
coming, and Mr. Rosenbaum grew quite 
chatty and communicative, as they sat 
around the bright fire of cedar logs and smoked. 

'‘Yes,’' he said, “I have been in the secret service 
ever since the beginning of the war — in fact, before 
the war, for I began getting news for Frank Blair in 
the Winter before the war. They say Jews have no 
patriotism. That’s a lie. Why should they have no 
patriotism for countries where they were treated like 
dogs? In Germany, where I was born, they treated 
us worse than dogs. They made us live in a little, 
nasty, pig-pen of an alley; we had to go in at sun- 
down, unt stay there; we had to wear a different 
cloze from other folks, unt we didn’t dare to say 
our souls were our own to any dirty loafer that in- 
sulted us. 

“Here we are treated like men, unt why shouldn’t 
we help to keep the country from breaking up? Jews 
ought to do more than anybody else, unt I made up 
my mind from the very first that I was going to do 
all that I could. The Generals have told me that I 
could do much better for the country in the secret 
service than as a soldier; they could get plenty of 
soldiers unt but few spies.” 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


25 


'‘Now you’re shoutin’,” said Shorty, “They kin git 
me to soldier as long as the war lasts, for the askin’, 
but I wouldn’t be a spy 10 minutes for a corn-basket 
full o’ greenbacks. I have too much regard for my 
neck. I need it in my business.” 

“You a spy,” said Si derisively. “You couldn’t spy 
for sour apples. Them big feet o’ your’n ’d give 
you dead away to anybody that’d ever seen you be- 
fore.” 

“Spyin’ isn’t the business that any straightfor’rd 
man,” — the Deacon began to say in tones of cold dis- 
approval, and then he bethought him of courtesy to 
the stranger, and changed hastily — “that I’d like to 
do. It’s entirely too resky.” 

“0, it’s jest as honorable as anything else. Pap,” 
said Si, divining his father’s thought. “All’s fair in 
love and war. We couldn’t git along without spies. 
They’re as necessary as muskets and cannon.” 

“Indeed they are,” said Mr. Rosenbaum earnestly ; 
“you wouldn’t know what to do with your muskets 
and cannon if the spies didn’t tell you where the 
rebels were, unt how many there was of them. I go 
out unt get information that it would cost hundreds 
of lives to get, unt may save thousands of lives, unt 
all that it costs is one poor little Jejv’s neck, when 
they drop on to him some day, unt leave him swing- 
ing frcm a tree. But when that time comes, I shall 
make no more complaint than these other poor boys 
do, who get their heads knockt off in battle. I’m 
no better than they are. My life belongs to the 
country the same as theirs, unt this free Government 
is worth all our lives, unt more, too.” 

His simple, sincere patriotism touched the Deacon 


26 


SI KLEGG. 


deeply. “Fd no idee that there was so much o’ the 
man in a Jew,” he said to himself. Then he asked 
the stranger: 

“How did you come to go into the spy business, 
Mr. Rosenbaum?” 

“Well, I was in St. Louis in the Clothing pizniss, 
unt you know it was purty hot there. All the Ger- 
mans were for the Union, unt most of the Americans 
unt Irish seemed to be Secessionists. I sided with the 
Germans, but as nobody seemed to think that a Jew 
had any principles or cared for anything but the 
almighty dollar, everybody talked right out before 
me, unt by keepin’ my ears wide open I got hold of 
lots of news, which I took straight to General Lyon. 
I got well acquainted with him, and he used to send 
me here and there to find out things for him. I’d 
sell gray uniforms and other things to the Seces- 
sionists ; they’d talk to one another right before me 
as to what was being done, and I’d keep my ears 
wide open all the time, though seemed to be only 
thinking about the fit and the buttons and the gold 
lace. 

“Then General Lyon wanted to find out just ex- 
actly how many men there was in Camp Jackson — 
no guesswork— ^no suppose. I took 2,000 of my 
business cards, printed on white, and 1,000 printed 
on gray paper. I went through the whole camp. 
To every man in uniform I give a white card; to 
every man without a uniform, who seemed to be 
there for earnest, I give a gray card. When I got 
back I counted my cards in General Lyon’s office, 
unt found I’d give out 500 white cards unt 200 gray 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


27 


ones. Then General Lyon took out about 3,000 men, 
unt brought the whole crowd back with him.’^ 

'Then General Lyon,” continued Rosenbaum, 
"sent me out from Springfield, Mizzouri, to see how 
many men old Pap Price unt Ben McCullough had 
gathered up against him from Mizzouri, Arkansaw, 
Texas unt the plains. Holy Moses, I was scared 
when I saw the pile of them. The whole world 
seemed to be out there, yipping unt yelling for Jeff 
Davis, drinking raw sod-corn whisky, making seces- 
sion speeches, unt shooting at marks. 

"I rode right into them, unt pretended that I was 
looking for Mexican silver dollars to take to Mexico 
to buy powder unt lead for the rebel army. I had a 
lot of new Confedrit notes that I’d got from my 
cousin, who was in the tobacco business in Memphis. 
They was great curiosities, unt every man who had 
a Mexican dollar wanted to trade it for a Confedrit 
dollar. 

"There was no use tryin’ to count the men — ^might 
as well have tried to count the leaves on the trees, so 
I begun to count the regiments. I stuck a pin in my 
right lapel for every Mizzouri regiment, one in my 
left lapel for every Arkansaw regiment, one in my 
vest Tor every one from Texas. I had black pins for 
the cannons. I was getting along very well, when 
I run across Bob Smiles, a dirty loafer, who had 
been a customer in St. Louis. He wouldn’t pay me, 
unt I had to get out a writ unt levy on his clothes 
just as he was dressing to go to a quadroon ball. 

"I left him with only a necktie, which was worth 
nothing to me, as it had been worn and soiled. He 
was very sore against me, unt I was not surprised. 


28 


SI KLEGG. 


It made me sick at my stomach when I saw him 
come up. 

‘‘ ‘Hello, you damn Dutch Jew,' he said. ‘What 
are you doing here?' 

“I tried to be very pleasant, unt I put out my hand 
unt said, with my best smile : 

“ ‘Good gracious. Bob, how glad I am to see you. 
When did you get here? Are you well? How are 
the other boys? Who's here? Where are you 
stopping ?' 

“But I might as well have tried to make friends 
with a bull dog in front of a farm house where all 
the people had gone away. 

“ ‘Go to blazes,’ he said. ‘None of your bizniss how 
I am, how I got here, or how the other boys are. 
Better not let them find out you’re here. They'll 
take it out of your Jew hide for the way you used 
to skin them in St. Louis. I want to know what the 
devil you are doing here?’ 

“ ‘Now, Mister Smiles,' I said, pleasant as a May 
morning, ‘that's not the way to talk to me. You 
know I got up the stylishest clothes unt the best 
fits in St. Louis. We had a little trouble, it is true. 
It was nothing, though. Just a little business dis- 
pute. You know I always thought you one of the 
very nicest men in St. Louis, unt I said so, even to 
the Squire unt to the Constable.' 

“ ‘Go to the devil, you Savior-killing Jew,' said 
he. ‘Shut up your mouth, or I’ll stuff a piece of 
pork in it. I want to know at once what you are 
doing here? Where did you come from?’ 

“ ‘I come from Memphis,' said I. ‘I'm in the serv- 
ice of the Southern Confedrisy. General Pillow sent 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


29 


me to gather up all the Mexican dollars I could find, 
to send to Mexico to buy ammunition.' 

‘‘ 'It's a lie, of course,’ said he. 'A Jew’d rather 
lie than eat, any day. Then you're one of them St. 
Louis Dutch-^them imported Hessians. They're all 
dead against us. They all ought to be killed. I ought 
to kill you myself for being so cussed mean to me.' 

“He put his hand on his revolver in a way that 
made my breakfast sour in my stomach, but then I 
knew that Bob Srniles was a great blowhard, unt his 
bark was much worse than his bite. In St. Louis he 
was always going to fight somebody unt kill some- 
body, but he never done neither. Quite a crowd 
gathered around, unt Bob blew off to them, unt they 
yelled, 'Hang the Jew spy. Kill the damn rascal,’ 
and other things that made me unhappy. But what 
made my flesh crawl was to see a man who wasn’t 
saying much, go to a wagon, pull out a rope, unt be- 
gin making a noose on the end. Bob Smiles caught 
hold of my collar unt started to drag me toward a 
tree. Just as I was giving up everything for lost, up 
comes Jim Jones — the same man I’m going to 
meet here — he come runnin’ up. He was dressed in 
full uniform as a rebel officer — gray coat unt pants, 
silver stars on his collar, high boots, gray slouched 
hat with gold cord, unt so on. 

“ 'Here, what is the matter? What’s all this fuss 
in oamp?' he said. 

" 'We’ve ketched one of them Dutch Jews from 
St. Louis spying our camp. Major,' said Bob Smiles, 
letting loose of my collar to salute the Major’s silver 
stars. 'And we are going to hang him.' 


30 


SI KLEGG. 


‘‘ *A spy? How do you know he’s a spy?’ asked 
Jim Jones. 

“ 'Well, he^s Dutch ; he’s a Jew, unt he’s from St. 
Louis. What more do you want?’ asked Bob Smiles. 



TRYING TO SAVE HIS NECK. 


The crowd yelled, unt de man with the rope went to 
the tree unt flung one end over a limb. 

" 'His being a St. Louis Dutchman is against him,’ 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


31 


said Jim Jones, 'but his being a Jew is in his 
favor. A Jew don’t care a blame for politics. He 
hain’t got no principles. He’d rather make a 
picayune oif you in a trade than have a wagon-load 
of principles. But you fellers have got nothing to do 
with spie^, anyway. That’s headquarters’ bizniss. 
I’m an officer at General Price’s headquarters. I’ll 
take him up there unt examine him. Bring him 
along.’ 

" 'Go along, Jew,’ said two of three of them, giv- 
ing me kicks, as Bob Smiles started with me. The 
man with the rope stood by the tree looking very 
disappointed. 

"When we got near General Price’s tent, Jim 
Jones says to the rest: 

" 'You stop there.' Come along with me, Jew.’ 

"He took me by the collar, unt we walked toward 
General Price’s tent. He whispered to me as we 
went along: 'You’re all right, Rosenbaum. I know 
you, unt I know what you’re here for. Just keep 
a stiff upper lip, tell your story straight, unt I’ll 
see you through.’ 

"That scared me worse than ever, but all that I 
could do was to .keep up my nerve, unt play my cards 
coolly. We went into the General’s tent, but he was 
busy, unt motioned us with his hand to the Adju- 
tant-General. 

"'What’s the matter?’ asked the Adjutant-Gen- 
eral, motioning me to sit down, while he went on 
making tally marks on a sheet of paper, as a man 
called off the regiments that had reported. Then he 
footed them all up, unt, turning to another officer, 
read from it so many Arkansaw regiments, so many 


32 


SI KLEGG. 


Louisianny, so many Mizzouri, so many Texas, so 
many batteries of artillery, unt he said to another 
officer as he laid the paper face down among the 
other papers on his table: ‘Just as I told you. Col- 



onel. We have fully 22,000 men ready for battle.’ 
Then to us: ‘Well, what can I do for you?’ 

“ ‘The boys had picked up this Jew for a spy, Col- 
onel,’ said Jim Jones, pointing to me, ‘unt they 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


33 


were about to hang him, just to pass away the after- 
noon more than for anything else. I took him away 
from them, telling them that it was your privilege to 
hang spies, unt you could do it according to the 
science of war. I brung him up here to get him 
away from them. After they're gone away or got 
interested in something else Fll take him unt put 
him outside of camp.' 

‘‘ 'All right," said de Adjutant-General, without 
taking much interest in the matter. 'Do with him as 
you please. A Jew more or less isn't of any con- 
sequence. Probably he deserves hanging, though, 
but it isn't well to encoi 'age the boys to hang men 
on sight. They're quite too ready to do that, any- 
way.' 

"He talked to the other man a little, unt then when 
he went away he turned to me, unt said, sort of lazy 
like, as if he didn't care anything about it: 

" 'Where are you from?' 

" 'From Memphis,' said I. 

" 'Great place, Memphis,' said he ; 'one of the 
thriving suburbs of Satan's Kingdom. Had lots of 
fun there. I know every faro bank in it, which 
speaks well for my memory, if not for my morals.* 
What bizniss was you in?' 

" 'Clothing,' said I. 

" 'What a fool question to ask a Jew,' said he, 
yawning. 'Of course, you was in the clothing trade. 
You was born in it. All Jews have been since they 
gambled for the Savior's garments.' 

" 'They wasn't Jews what gambled for Christ's 
clothes,' said I, picking up a little courage. 'They 
vass Romans — Italians — Dagoes.' 


34 


SI KLEGG. 


‘Was they?' said he. ‘Well, mebbe they was. I 
haven't read my Bible for so long that I've clean for- 
got. Say, what are you doing with all them pins?' 

“The question come so unexpected that it come 
nearly knocking me off my base. I had calculated on 
almost every other possible thing, unt was ready for 
it, except that fool question. I thought for a minit 
that disappointed man by the tree, with the rope was 
going to get his job, after all. But I gathered my- 
self together with a jerk, unt calmly said with a 
smile : 

“ ‘0, that's some of my foolishness. I can't get 
over being a tailor, and sticking all the pins what I 
find in my lapel. I must pick up every one I see.' 

“ ‘Queer where you found them all,' said he. 
‘Must've brung them from Memphis with you. I 
can't find one in the whole camp. Our men use 
nails unt thorns instead of pins. I've been wanting 
a lot of pins for my papers. Let me have all you 
got. I wish you had a paper of them.' 

“I did have two or three papers in my pockets, unt 
first had a fool idea of offering them to him. Then 
I remembered that disappointed man with the rope 
by the tree, unt pulled the pins out of my lapels 
one by one unt give them to him, trying to keep 
count in my head as I did so. 

“ ‘What are you doing here, anyway ?' he asked as 
he gathered up the pins unt put them in a paste- 
board box. 

“ ‘I come here at General Pillow's orders, to 
pick up some Mexican silfer dollars, to buy ammuni- 
tion in Mexico. 

“ ‘Another of old blowhard Pillow's fool schemes,' 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


35 


said he. ‘I know old Pillow. I served with him in 
Mexico, when he dug his ditch on the wrong side of 
his fortification. He's probably going to do some- 
thing else with the dollars than buy ammunition. Old 
Gid Pillow's a mighty slick one, I tell you, when it 
comes to filling his own pockets. He's no fool there, 
whatever he may be in other ways. He's working 
some scheme to skin our men, unt making you his 
partner, then he'll turn around unt skin you. Pll 
stop it going any further by turning you out of 
camp, unt I ought to take away from you all the 
money you've gathered up, but I won't do it on one 
condition.' 

“'What is your condition?' said I, trying not to 
speak too quick. 

“ 'You say you are in the clothing pizniss. I want 
awfully a nice uniform, just like the Major's there. 
What's such a uniform worth?' 

'' 'About $75,' said I. 

'' 'I paid $65 for this in St. Louis,' said Jim Jones. 

'' 'Well, $10 is not much of a skin for a Memphis 
Jew,' laughed the Adjutant-General. 'I tell you 
what I'll do, if you'll swear by the book of Deuter- 
onomy, unt Moses, Abraham unt Isaac, to have me 
inside of two weeks just such a uniform as the 
Major's there. I'll let you off with all the money you 
have made already, unt when you come back with it 
I'll give you written permission to trade for every 
silver dollar in camp.' 

'' 'It is a bargain,' said I. 

'' 'Unt it'll be a perfect fit," said he. 

'' 'Just like the paper on the wall,' said I. 'Let me 
take your measure.' 


36 


SI KLEGG. 


'‘I had my eye all the time on the paper he had laid 
carelessly down unt forgotten. -I pulled my tape- 
measure out. The old idee of the tailor come up. I 
forgot about the disappointed man with the rope by 
the tree, unt was my old self taking the measure of a 
customer. I put all the figures down on his piece of 
paper, without his noticing what I was using. I 
asked him about the lining, the trimming, unt the 
pockets, unt wrote them down. Then I folded up the 
paper unt stuck it in my breast pocket, unt my heart 
gave a big thump, though I kept my face straight, 
unt went on talking about buttons unt silk braid unt 
gold lace for the sleeves. I promised him he should 
have the uniform in the army in two weeks’ time. 
Just then some officers come in, unt Jim Jones hur- 
ried me out. I could not understand Jim Jones. He 
hurried me across to a place behind the woods, 
where we found some horses. 

“ ‘Untie that one unt get on quick,’ he said. ‘My 
God, you’ve got the thing dead to rights; you’ve 
got everything on that piece of paper. My God, 
what luck! Smartest thing I ever saw done. Get 
that paper in General Lyon’s hands before midnight 
if you kill yourself unt horse in doing it. I’ll take 
you out past part of the guards, unt show you how to 
avoid the rest. Then ride as if the devil was after 
you, until you reach General Lyon’s tent.’ 

“I was dumfounded. I looked at Jim Jones. His 
eyes was like fire. Then it suddenly occurred to me 
that Jim Jones was a spy, too. 

“As I mounted I looked back across the camp. I 
saw the rope still hanging from a limb of the tree. 


ROSENBAUM, THE SPY. 


37 


and the disappointed man sitting down beside it pa- 
tiently waiting. 

“That night the paper was in General Lyon's 
hands, unt the next night the army moved out to 
fight the battle of Wilson's Creek. 

“The Adjutant-General is still waiting for that 
uniform." 

“Halt, who comes there ?" called out Shorty, whose 
quick ears caught the sound of approaching foot- 
steps. 

“The Officer of the Guard," responded from the 
bank of darkness in the rear. 

“Advance, Officer of the Guard, and give the coun- 
tersign," commanded Shorty, lowering his musket to 
a charge bayonets. 

The officer advanced, leaned over the bayonet's 
point, and whispered the countersign. 

“Countersign's correct," announced Shorty, bring- 
ing his gun to a present. “Good evening, Lieuten- 
ant. We have got a man here who claims to belong 
to the Secret Service." 

“Yes," answered the officer. “We've been expect- 
ing him all afternoon, but thought he was coming 
in on the other road. I'd have been around here 
long ago only for that. This is he, is it? Well, let's 
hurry in. They want you at Headquarters as soon 
as possible." 

^‘Good night, boys," called out Mr. Rosenbaum as 
he disappeared; “see you again soon." 


CHAPTER III. 


THE DEACON GOES HOME — SHORTY FALLS A VICTIM TO 
HIS GAMBLING PROPENSITIES. 

T he boys did not finish their tour of picket 
duty till the forenoon of the next day, and it 
was getting toward evening when they 
reached their own camp. 

"‘What in the world’s going on at the house?” Si 
asked anxiously, as they were standing on the regi- 
mental parade ground waiting to be dismissed. 
Strange sounds came floating from that direction. 
The scraping of a fiddle was mingled with yells, 
the rush of feet, and laughter. 

‘T’ll go over there and see,” said the Deacon, who 
had sat down behind the line on a pile of the things 
they had brought back with them. He picked up 
the coffee-pot, the frying-pan, and one of the haver- 
sacks, and walked in the' direction of the house. As 
he turned into the company street and came in sight 
of the cabin he looked for an instant, and then broke 
out: 

“Fm blam'ed if they don’t seem to be havin’ a 
nigger political rally there, with the house as cam- 
paign headquarters. Where in time could they have 
all come from? Looks like a crow-roost, with some 
o’ the crows drunk.” 

Apparently, all the negro cooks, teamsters, officers’ 
servants, and roustabouts from the adjoining camps 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


39 


had been gathered there, with Groundhog, Pilgarlic, 
and similar specimens of the white teamsters among 
them and leading them. 

Seated on a log were three negroes, one sawing 
on an old fiddle, one picking a banjo, and one play- 
ing the bones. Two negroes were in the center of 



a ring, dancing, while the others patted '‘Juba.” 
All were more or less intoxicated. Groundhog and 
Pilgarlic were endeavoring to get up a fight be- 
tween Abraham Lincoln and another stalwart, stupid 
negro, and were plying them with whisky from a 
canteen and egging them on with words. 



40 


SI KLEGG. 


The Deacon strode up to Groundhog and, catching 
him by the arm, demanded sternly: 

‘'What are you doing, you miserable scoundrel? 
Stop it at once.’^ 

Groundhog, who had drunk considerable himself, 
and was pot-valiant, shook him off roughly, saying: 

“G’way from here, you dumbed citizen. This 
hain’t none o’ your bizniss. Go back to your hay- 
mow and leave soldiers alone.” 

The Deacon began divesting himself of his burden 
to prepare for action, but before he could do so. 
Shorty rushed in, gave Groundhog a vigorous kick, 
and he and Si dispersed the rest of the crowd in a 
hurry with sharp cuffs for all they could reach. 
The meeting broke up without a motion to adjourn. 

The Deacon caught Abraham Lincoln by the collar 
and shook him vigorously. 

“You black rascal,” he said, “what’ve you bin up 
to?” 

“Didn’t ’spect you back so soon. Boss,” gasped 
the negro. “Said you wouldn’t be back till ter- 
morrer.” 

“No matter when you expected us back,” said the 
Deacon, shaking him still harder, while Si winked 
meaningly at Shorty. “What d’ye mean by sich 
capers as this? You’ve bin a-drinkin’ likker, you 
brute.” 

“Cel’bratun my freedom,” gasped the negro. 
“Groundhog done tole me to.” 

“I’d like to celebrate his razzled head offen him,”^ 
exploded the Deacon. “I’ll welt him into dog’s meat 
hash if I kin lay my hands on him. He’s too mean 
and wuthless to even associate with mules. If I’d a 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


41 


dog on my place as onery as he is Fd give him a 
button before night. He’s not content with bein’ a 
skunk himself; he wants to drag everybody else 
down to his level. Learnin’ you to drink whisky and 
fight as soon as you’re out o’ bondage. Next thing 
he’ll be learnin’ you to steal sheep and vote for 
Vallandigham. I’d like to put a stone around his 
neck and feed him to the catfish.” 

There was something so strange and earnest about 
the Deacon’s wrath that it impressed the negro 
more than any of the most terrible exhibitions of 
wrath that he had seen his master make. He cow- 
ered down, and began crying in a maudlin way and 
begging : 

‘Tray God, Boss, don’t be so hard on a poor nig- 
ger.” 

Si, who had learned something more of the slave 
nature than his father, ended the unpleasant scene 
by giving Abraham Lincoln a sharp slap across the 
hips with a piece of clapboard and ordering: 

“Pick up that camp-kettle, go to the spring and 
fill it, and git back here in short meter.” 

The blow came to the negro as a welcome relief. 
It was something that he could understand. He 
sprang to his feet, grinned, snatched up the camp- 
kettle, and ran to the spring. 

“I must get that man away from here without 
delay,” said the Deacon. “The infiuences here are 
awful. They’ll ruin him. He’ll lose his soul if he 
stays here. I’ll start home with him to-morrow.” 

“He’ll do worse’n lose his soul,” grumbled Shorty, 
who had been looking over the provisions. “He’ll 
lose the top of his woolly head if he brings another 


42 


SI KLEGG. 


gang o' coons around here to eat us out o' house 
and home. I'll be gosh durned if I don't believe 
they've eat up even all the salt and soap. There 
ain't a crumb left of anything. Talk about losin' his 
soul. I'd give six bits for something to make him 
lose his appetite." 

“I'll take him home to-morrow," reiterated the 
Deacon. “I raised over 'leven hundred bushels o' 
corn last year, 'bout 500 o' wheat, and just an even 
ton o' pork. I kin feed him awhile, anyway, but I 
don't know as I'd chance two of him." 

“What'll you do if you have him and the grass- 
hoppers the same year. Pap ?" inquired Si. 

That night the Deacon began his preparations for 
returning home. He had gathered up many relics 
from the battlefield to distribute among his friends 
at home and decorate the family mantlepiece. There 
were fragments of exploded shells, some canister, a 
broken bayonet, a smashed musket, a solid 12-pound 
shot, and a quart or more of battered bullets picked 
up in his walks over the scenes of the heavy fighting. 

“Looks as if you were going into the junk busi- 
ness, Pap," commented Si, as the store was gathered 
on the fioor. 

The faithful old striped carpetsack was brought 
out, and its handles repaired with stout straps. The 
thrifty Deacon insisted on taking home some of Si's 
and Shorty's clothes to be mended. The boys pro- 
tested. 

“We don't mend clothes in the army. Pap," said 
Si. “They ain't wuth it. We just wear 'em, out, 
throw 'em away, and draw new ones." 

The Deacon held out that his mother and sisters 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


43 


would take great pleasure in working on such things, 
from the feeling that they were helping the war 
along. Finally the matter was compromised by put- 
ting in some socks to be darned and shirts to be 
mended. Then the bullets, canister, round-shot, 
fragments of shell, etc., were filled in. 

“I declare,’' said the Deacon dubiously, as he 
hefted the carpetsack. 'Tt’s go in’ to be a job to lug 
that thing back home. Better hire a mule-team. 
But I’ll try it. Mebbe it’ll help work some o’ the 
stupidity out o’ Abraham Lincoln.” 

The whole of Co. Q and most of the regiment had 
grown very fond of the Deacon, and when it was 
noised around that he was going, they crowded in 
to say good-by, and give him letters and money to 
take home. The remaining space in the carpetsack 
and all that in the Deacon’s many pockets w6re 
filled with these. 

The next morning the company turned out to a 
man and escorted him to the train, with Si and his 
father marching arm-in-arm at the head, the com- 
pany fifers playing 

‘‘Ain’t I glad to get out of the Wilderness, 

Way down in Tennessee,” 

and Abraham Lincoln, ladfen with the striped car^ 
petsack, the smashed musket and other relics, bring- 
ing up the rear, under the supervision of Shorty. 

Tears stood in the old man’s eyes as he stood on 
the platform of the car, and grasped Si’s and 
Shorty’s hands in adieu. His brief farewell was 
characteristic of the strong, self-contained Western 


man: 


44 


SI KLEGG. 


‘‘Good-by, boys. God bless you. Take care of your- 
selves. Be good boys. Come home safe after the 
war.’^ 

The boys stood and watched the train with sorrow- 
ful eyes until it had passed out of sight in the woods 
beyond Overall’s Creek, and then turned to go to 
their camp with a great load of homesickness 
weighing down their hearts. 

“Just think of it; he’s going straight back to 
God’s country,” said someone near. 

A sympathetic sigh went up from all. 

“Shet up,” said Shorty savagely. “I don’t want 
to hear a word o’ that kind. He pulled his hat 
down over his eyes, rammed his hands deep in his 
pockets, and strode off, trying to whistle 

* “When this cruel war is over,” 

but the attempt was a dismal failure. Si separated 
from the crowd and joined him. They took an un- 
frequented and roundabout way back to camp. 

“I feel all broke up. Si,” said Shorty. “I wish 
that we were goin’ into a fight, or something to stir 
us up.” 

Si understood his partner’s mood, and that it was 
likely to result in an outbreak of some kind. He 
tried to get him over to the house, so that he could 
get him interested in work there. 

They came to a little hidden ravine, and found 
it filled with men playing that most fascinating of 
all gambling games to the average soldier — chuck- 
a-luck. There were a score of groups, each gath- 
ered around as many “sweat-boards.” Some of the 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


45 


men ‘^running’’ the games were citizens, and some 
were in uniform. Each had before him a small 
board on which was sometimes painted, sometimes 
rudely marked with charcoal, numbers from 1 to 6. 



On some of the boards the numbers were indicated 
by playing-cards, from ace to six-spot, tacked down. 
The man who “ran” the game had a dice-box, with 
three dice. He would shake the box, turn it upside 


46 


SI KLEGG. 


down on the board, and call upon the group in front 
of him to make their bets. 

The players would deposit their money on the 
numbers that they fancied, and then, after the in- 
quiry, ‘‘All down?'’ the “banker” would raise the 
box and reveal the dice. Those who had put their 
money on any of the three numbers which had 
turned up, would be paid, while those who bet on 
the other three would lose. 

Chuck-a-luck was strictly prohibited in camp, but 
it was next to impossible to keep the men from play- 
ing it. Citizen gamblers would gain admittance to 
camp under various pretexts and immediately set up 
boards in secluded places, and play till they were 
discovered and run out, by which time they would 
have made enough to make it an inducement to try 
again whenever they could find an opportunity. 
They followed the army incessantly for this pur- 
pose, and in the aggregate carried off immense sums 
of the soldiers’ pay. Chuck-a-luck is one of the fair- 
est of gambling games, when- fairly played, which 
it rarely or never is by a professional gambler. A 
tolerably quick, expert man finds little difficulty in 
palming the dice before a crowd of careless soldiers 
so as to transfer the majority of their bets to his 
pocket. The regular citizen gamblers were rein- 
forced by numbers of insatiable chuck-a-luckers in 
the ranks, who would set up a “board” at the least 
chance, even under the enemy’s fire, while waiting 
the order to move. 

Chuck-a-luck was Shorty’s greatest weakness. He 
found it as difficult to pass a chuck-a-luck board as 
an incurable drunkard does to pass a dram-shop. 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


47 


Si knew this, and shuddered a little as he saw the 
“layouts,'' and tried to get his partner past them. 
But it was of no use. Shorty was in an intractable 
mood. He must have a strong distraction. If he 
could not fight he would gamble. 

“I'm goin' to bust this feller's bank before I go 
another step," said he, stopping before one. “I know 
him. He's the same feller that, you remember, I 
busted down before Nashville. I kin do it agin. 
He's a bum citizen gambler. He thinks he's the 
smartest chuck-a-lucker in the Army o' the Cumber- 
land, but I'll learn him different." 

“Don't risk more'n a dollar," begged Si as a final 
appeal. 

“All down?" called the “banker." 

“Allow doublin'?" inquired Shorty. 

“Double as much as you blamed please, so long's 
you put your money down," answered the “banker" 
defiantly. 

^Well, then, here goes a dollar on that five-spot," 
said Shorty, “skinning" a bill from a considerable 
roll. 

“Don't allow more'n 25 cents bet on single cards, 
first bet," said the “banker," dismayed by the size 
of the roll. 

“Thought you had some sand," remarked Shorty 
contemptuously. “Well, then, here's 25 cents on the 
five-spot, and 25 cents on the deuce," and he placed 
shin-plasters on the numbers. “Now, throw them 
dice straight, and no fingerin'. I'm watchin' you." 

“Watch and be durned," said the “banker" surlily. 
“Watch your own business, and I'll watch mine. I'm 
as honest as you are any day." 


48 


SI KLEGG. 


The “banker” lifted the box, and showed two sixes 
and a tray up. He raked in the bets on the ace, 
deuce, four and five-spots, and paid the others. 

“Fifty cents on the deuce; 50 cents on the five,” 
said Shorty, laying down the fractional currency. 

Again they lost. 

“A dollar on the deuce; a dollar on the five,” said 
Shorty. 

The same ill luck. 

“Two dollars on the deuce; two dollars on the 
five,” said Shorty, though Si in vain plucked his 
sleeve to get him away. 

The spots remained obstinately down. 

“Four dollars on the deuce; four dollars on the 
five,” said Shorty. 

No better luck. 

“Eight dollars on the deuce; eight dollars on the 
five,” said Shorty. 

“Whew, there goes more’n a month’s pay,” said 
the other players, stopping to watch the dice^ as 
they rolled out, with the deuce and five-spot down 
somewhere else than on top. “And his roll’s begin- 
ning to look as if an elephant had stepped on it. 
Now we’ll see his sand.” 

“Come, Shorty, you’ve lost enough. You’ve lost 
too much already. Luck’s agin you,” urged Si. 
“Come away.” 

“I ain’t goin’,” said Shorty, obstinately. “Now’s 
my chance to bust him. Every time them spots 
don’t come up increases 'the chances that they’ll 
come up next time. They’ve got to. They’re not 
loaded; I kin tell that by the way they roll. He 
ain’t fingerin’ ’em ; I stopped that when I made him 


THfi deacon goes HOME. 


49 

give ’em a rollin’ throw, instead o’ keepin’ ’em kiv- 
vered with the box.” 

‘‘Sixteen dollars on the deuce; sixteen dollars on 
the five-spot. And I ain’t takin’ no chances o’ your 
jumpin’ the game on me, Mr. Banker. I want you 
to plank down $32 alongside o’ mine.” 

Shorty laid down his money and put his fists on it. 
“Now put yours right there.” 

“0, I’ve got money enough to pay you. Don’t be 
skeered,” sneered the “banker,” “and you’ll git it if 
you win it.” 

“You bet I will,” answered Shorty. “And I’m 
goin’ to make sure by havin’ it right on the board 
alongside o’ mine. Come down, now.” 

The proposition met the favor of the other players, 
and the “banker” was constrained to comply. 

“Now,” said Shorty, as. the money was counted 
down, “I’ve jest $20 more that says that I’ll win. 
Put her up alongside;” 

The “banker” was game. He pulled out a roll and 
said as he thumbed it over: 

“I’ll see you $20, and go you $50 better that I 
win.” 

Shorty’s heart beat a little faster. All his money 
was up, but there was the $50 which the Deacon 
had intrusted to him for charitable purposes. He 
slipped his hand into his bosom, felt it, and looked 
at Si. Si was not looking at him, but had his eyes 
fixed on a part of the board where the dice had been 
swept after the last throw. Shorty resisted the 
temptation for a moment, and withdrew his hand. 

“Come down, now,” taunted the “banker.” “You’ve 
blowed so much about sand. Don’t weaken over a 
s 


50 


SI KLEGC. 


little thing like $50. I’m a thoroughbred, myself, I 
am. The man don’t live that kin bluff me.” 

The taunt was too much for Shorty. He ran his 
hand into his bosom in desperation, pulled out the 
roll of the Deacon’s money, and laid it on the board. 

Si had not lifted his eyes. He was wondering 
why the flies showed such a liking for the part of 
the board where the dice were lying. Numbers of 
them had gathered there, apparently eagerly feed- 
ing. He was trying to understand it. 

He had been thinking of trying a little shy at the 
four-spot himself, as he had noticed that it had never 
won, and two or three times he had looked for it 
before the dice were put in the box, and had seen 
the '‘banker” turn it down on the board before 
picking the dice up. A thought flashed into his mind. 

The "banker” picked up the dice with seeming 
carelessness, dropped them into the box, gave them 
a little shake, and rolled them out. Two threes 
and a six came up. The "banker’s” face lighted 
up with triumph, and Shorty’s deadened into acute 
despair. 

"I guess that little change is mine,” said the 
"banker” reaching for the pile. 

"Hold on a minnit, Mister,” said Si, covering the 
pile with his massive hands. "Shorty, look at them 
dice. He’s got molasses on one side. You kin see 
there where the flies are eatin’ it.” 

Shorty snatched up the dice, felt them and 
touched his tongue to one side. "That’s so, sure’s 
you’re a foot high,” said he sententiously. 

Just then someone yelled: 

"Scatter! Here come the guards!” 


THE DEACON GOES HOME. 


51 


All looked up. A company coming at the double- 
quick was almost upon them. The '‘banker” made 
a final desperate claw for the money, but was met 
by the heavy fist of Shorty and knocked on his back. 
Shorty grabbed what money there was on the board, 
and he and Si made a burst of speed which took 



SHORTY SETTLES WITH THE BANKER. 


them out of reach of the “proves” in a few seconds. 
Looking back from a safe distance they could see 
the “bankers” and a lot of the more luckless ones 
being gathered together to march to the guard-house. 

“Another detachment of horny-handed laborers 
for the fortifications,” said Shorty grimly, as he re- 


52 


SI KLEGG. 


covered his breath, watched them, and sent up a yell 
of triumph and derision. ‘‘Another contribution to 
the charity fund,” he continued, looking down at the 
bunch of bills and fractional currency in his hands. 

“Shorty,” said Si earnestly, “promise me ‘solemnly 
that you’ll never bet at chuck-a-luck agin as long as 
you live.” 

“Si, don’t ask me impossibilities. But I want you 
to take every cent o’ this money and keep it. Don’t 
you ever give me more’n $5 at a time, under any 
consideration. Don’t you do it, if I git down on my 
knees and ask for it. Lord, how nigh I come to 
losin’ that $50 o’ your father’s.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


A spy's experiences — MR. ROSENBAUM TELLS THE 
BOYS MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES. 

M r. ROSENBAUM became a frequent visitor 
to the Hoosier's Rest, and generally greatly 
interested Si and Shorty with his stories of 
adventure. 

“How did you happen to come into the Army of 
the Cumberland?" asked Si. “Fd a-thought you'd 
staid where you knowed the country and the people." 

“That was just the trouble," replied Rosenbaum. 
“I got to know them very well, but they got to know 
me a confounded sight better. When I was in the 
clothing pizniss in St. Louis I tried to have every- 
body know me. I advertised. I wanted to be a 
great big .sunflower that everybody noticed. But 
when I got to be a spy I wanted to be a modest little 
violet that hid under the leaves, unt nobody saw. 
Then every man what knew me become a danger, 
unt it got so that I shuddered every time that I see 
a limb running out from a tree, for I didn't know 
how soon I might be hung from it. I had some awful 
narrow escapes, I tell you. 

“But what decided me to leave the country unt skip 
over de Mississippi River was something that hap- 
pened down in the Boston Mountains just before the 
battle of Pea Ridge. I was down there watching Van 
Pprn unt Bep McCullough for General Curtis^ unt 


54 * 


SI KLEGG. 


was getting along all right. I was still playing the 
old racket about buying up Mexican silver dollars to 
buy ammunition. One night I was sitting at a 
campfire with two or three others, when a crowd of 
Texans come up. They was just drunk enough to be 



A CLOSE CALL FOR ROSENBAUM. 


devilish, unt had a rope with a noose on the end, 
which I noticed first thing. I had begun to keep a 
sharp lookout for such things. My flesh creeped 
when I saw them. I tried to think what had stirred 


A spy's experience. 


55 


them up all at once, but couldn't for my life recol- 
lect, for everything had been going on all right for 
several days. The man with the rope — a big, ugly 
brute, with red hair unt one eye — says : 

'' 'You're a Jew, ain't you?' 

" 'Yes,' says I ; 'I was born that way.' 

" 'Well,' says he, 'we're going to hang you right 
off.' Unt he put the noose around my neck unt be- 
gan trying to throw the other end over a limb. 

" 'WhAt for?' I yelled, trying to pull the rope off 
my neck. 'I ain't done nothing.' 

" 'Hain't eh?' said the man with one eye. 'You 
hook-nosed Jews crucified our Savior.' 

" 'Why, you red-headed fool,' said I, catching hold 
of the rope with both hands, 'that happened more as 
1,800 years ago. Let me go.' 

" 'I don't care if it did,' said the one-eyed man, 
getting the end of the rope over the limb, 'we didn't 
hear about it till the Chaplain told us this morning, 
unt then the boys said we'd kill every Jew we come 
across. Catch hold of the end here. Bowers.' 

"The other fellers around me laughed at the Tex- 
ans so that they finally agreed to let me go if I'd 
promise not to do it again, holler for Jeff Davis, unt 
treat all around. It was a fool thing, but it scared 
me worse'n anything else, unt I resolved to get out 
of there unt go where the people read their Bibles 
unt the newspapers." 

"How did you manage to keep Gen. Curtis posted 
as to the number of rebels in front of him?" asked 
Si. "You couldn't always be running back and forth 
from one army to the other." 

"0, that was easy enough. You see. General Cur- 


56 


SI KLEGG. 


tis was advancing, unt the rebels falling back most 
of the time. There was cabins every little ways along 
the road. All these have great big fireplaces, built 
of smooth rocks, which they pick up out of the creek 
unt wherever they can find them. 

*Td go into these houses unt talk with the people 
unt play with the children. Td sit by the fire unt pick 
up a dead coal unt mark on these smooth rocks. 
Sometimes Td draw horses unt wagons unt men to 
amuse the children. Sometimes Td talk to the old 
folks about how long they’d been in the country, 
how many bears unt deers the man had killed, how 
far it was to the next place, how the roads run, unt 
so on, unt Td make marks on the jam of the fire- 
place .to help me understand. 

“The next day our scouts would come in unt see 
the marks unt understand them just as well as if I’d 
wrote them a letter. I fixed it all up with them be- 
fore I left camp. I kin draw very well with a piece 
of charcoal. I’d make pictures of men what would 
make the children unt old folks open their eyes. Our 
scouts would understand which one meant Ben Mc- 
Cullough, which one Van Dorn, which one Pap Price, 
unt so on. Other marks would show which way each 
one was going unt how many men he hat with him. 
The rebels never dropt on to it, but they came so 
close to it once or twice that my hair stood on end.” 

“That curly mop of yours’d have a time standing 
on end,” ventured Shorty. “I should think it’d twist 
your neck off tryin’ to.” 

“Well, something gave me a queer feeling about 
the throat one day when I saw a rebel Colonel stop 


A SPY^S EXPERIENCE. 


57 


unt look very hard at a long letter which I’d wrote 
this way on a rock. 

“ ‘Who done that?’ he asked. 

“ ‘This man here,’ says the old woman. ‘He done 
it while he was gassing with the old man unt fooling 
with the children. Lot o’ pesky nonsense, marking 
up de walls dat a-way.’ 

“ ‘Looks like very systematic nonsense,’ said the 
Colonel very stern unt sour. ‘There may be some- 
thing in it. Did you do this ?’ said he, turning to me. 

“ ‘Yes, sir,’ said I. ‘ I have a bad habit of marking 
when I’m talking. I always done it, even when I 
was a child. My mother used to often slap me for 
spoiling the walls, but she could never break me of 
it.’ 

“ ‘Humph,’ said he, no.t at all satisfied with my 
story, unt looking at the scratches harder than ever. 
‘Who are you, unt what are you doing here?’ 

“I told him my story about buying Mexican silver 
dollars, unt showed him a lot of the dollars I’d 
bought. 

“ ‘Your story ain’t reasonable,’ said he. ‘You 
haven’t done bizniss enough to pay you for all the 
time you’ve spent around the army. I’ll put you 
under guard till I can look into your case.’ 

“He called to the Sergeant of the Guard, unt 
ordered him to take charge of me. The Sergeant 
was that same dirty loafer. Bob Smiles, that I had 
the trouble with by Wilson’s Creek. He kicked me 
unt pounded me, unt put me on my horse, with my 
hands tied behind me, unt my feet tied under the 
horse’s belly. I was almost dead by night, when we 
reached Headquarters. They gave me something to 


58 


SI KLEGG. 


eat, unt I laid down on the floor of the cabin, wish- 
ing I was Pontius Pilate, so that I could crucify 
every man in the Southern Confedrisy, especially 
Bob Smiles. An hour or two later I heard Bob 
Smiles swearing again. 



“ ‘Make out the names of all the prisoners I have,’ 
he was saying, ‘with where they belong unt the 
charges against them. I can’t. Do they take me for 
a counter- jumping clerk? I didn’t come into the 
army to be a white-faced bookkeeper, I sprained 


A spy's experience. 


59 


my thumb the other day, unt I can't write even a 
little bit. What am I to do?' 

'That was all moonshine about his spraining his 
thumb. He vas ignorant as a jackass. If he had 
40 thumbs he couldn’t write even his own name so's 
anybody could read it. 

" 'I don't believe these's a man in a mile of here 
that can make out such a list,’ he went on. They're 
all a set of hominy-eating blockheads. Perhaps that 
hook-nosed Jew might. He’s the man. I'll make 
him do it, or break his swindling head.’ 

"He come in, kicked me, unt made me get up, unt 
then took me out unt set me down at a table, where 
he had paper, pen unt ink, unt ordered me to take 
down the names of the prisoners as he brought them 
up. He'd look over my shoulder as I wrote, as if 
he was reading what I set down, but I knowed that 
he couldn't make out a letter. I was tempted to 
write all sorts of things about him, but I didn’t, for 
I was in enough trouble already. When I come to 
my own name, he said : 

" 'Make de charge a spy, a thief, unt a Dutch 
traitor to the Southern Confedrisy.’ 

"I just wrote: 'Levi Rosenbaum, Memphis, Tenn. 
Merchant. No charge.' 

"He scowled very wisely at it, unt pretended to 
read it, unt said: 

" 'It’s lucky for you that you wrote it just as I 
told you. I'd 'a' broke every bone in your body if 
you hadn't.' 

"I'd just got done when an officer come down 
from Headquarters for it. He looked it over unt 
said: 


60 


SI KLEGG. 


“ 'Who made this out?’ 

“ 'Why, I made it out,’ said Bob Smiles, bold as 
brass. 

" 'But who wrote it?” said de officer. 

" '0, I sprained my thumb, so I couldn’t write 
very well, unt I made a Jew prisoner copy it,’ said 
Bob Smiles. 

" 'It’s the best writing I have seen,’ said the officer. 
'I want the man what wrote it to go with me to 
Headquarters at once. I have some copying there 
to be done at once, unt not one of them corn-crackers 
that I have up there can write anything fit to read. 
Bring that man out here unt I will take him with 
me. 

"Fob Smiles hated to let me go, but he couldn’t 
help himself, unt I went with the officer. I was so 
tired I could hardly move a step, unt I felt I could 
not write a word. But I seemed to see a chance at 
Headquarters, unt I determined to make every 
effort to do something. They gave me a stiff horn of 
whisky unt set me to work. They wanted me to 
make out unt copy a consolidated report of the 
army. 

"I almost forgot I was tired when I found out 
what they wanted, for I saw a chance to get some- 
thing of great value. They’d been trying to make 
up a report from all sorts of scraps unt sheets of 
paper sent in from the different Headquarters, unt 
they had spoiled a half-dozen big sheets of paper 
after they’d got them partly done. If I do say it 
myself, I can write better and faster and figure 
quicker than most any man you ever saw. Those 
rebels thought they had got hold of a wonder — a 


A SPY^S EXPERIENCE. 


61 


lightning calculator unt lightning penman together. 

‘‘As fast as I could copy one paper, unt it would 
prove to be all right, I would fold it up unt stick 
it into a big yaller envelope. I also folded up the 
spoiled reports, unt stuck them in the envelope, say- 
ing that I wanted to get rid of them — put them 
where seeing them wouldn't bother me. I carefully 
slipped the envelope under the edge of a pile of 
papers near the edge of the table. I had another 
big yaller envelope that looked just like it lying in 
the middle of the table, into which I stuck papers 
that didn't amount to nothing. I was very slick 
about it, unt didn't let them see that I had two en- 
velopes. 

“It was past midnight when I got the consolidated 
report made out, unt the rebels was tickled to death 
with it. They'd never seen anything so well done be- 
fore. They wanted a copy made to keep, unt I said 
I'd make one, though I was nearly dead for sleep. 
I really wasn't, for the excitement made me forget 
all about being tired. 

“I was determined, before I slept, to have that yel- 
low envelope, with all those papers, in General Cur- 
tis's hands, though he was 40 miles away. How in 
the world I was going to do it I could not think, but 
I was going to do it, if I died a trying. The first 
thing was to get that envelope off the table into my 
clothes ; the next, to get out of that cabin, away from 
Bob Smiles unt his guards, through the rebel lines, 
unt over the mountains to General Curtis's camp. 
It was a dark, windy night, unt things were in con- 
fusion about the camp — ^just the kind of a time when 


62 


SI KLEGG. 


anybody might kill a Jew pedler, unt no questions 
would be asked. 

'‘I had got the last copy finished, unt the officers 
was going over it. They had their heads together, 
not 18 inches from me, across the table. I had my 
fingers on the envelope, but I didn't dare slip it out, 
though my fingers itched. I was in hopes that 
they'd turn around, or do something that'd give me 
a chance. 

“Suddenly Bob Smiles opened the door wide, unt 
walked in, with a dispatch in his hand. The wind 
swept in, blew the candles out, unt sent de papers 
flying about the room. Some went into the fire. The 
officers yelled unt swore at him, unt he shut the door, 
but I had the envelope in my breast-pocket. 

“Then to get away. How in the name of Moses unt 
the ten commandments was I to do that? 

“One of the officers said to Bob Smiles : “Take this 
man away unt take good care of him until to-mor- 
row. We'll want him again. Give him a good bed, 
unt plenty to eat, unt treat him well. We'll need 
him to-morrow.' 

“ 'Gome on, you pork-hating Jew,' said Bob 
Smiles crabbedly. T'll give you a mess of spare-ribs 
unt corn-dodgers for supper.' 

“ 'You'll do nothing of the kind,' said the officer. 
'I told you to treat him well, unt if you don't treat 
him well. I'll see about it. Give him a bed in that 
house where de orderlies stay.' 

“Bob Smiles grumbled unt swore at me, unt we 
vent out, but there was nothing to do but to obey 
orders. He give me a good place, unt some coffee 
unt bread, unt I lay down pretending to go to sleep. 


A spy's experience. 


63 


I snored away like a good feller, unt presently I heard 
some one come in. I looked a little out the corner 
of my eye, unt see by the light of the fire that Bob 
Smiles was sneaking back. He watched me for a 
minute, unt then put his hand on me. 

“I was scared as I never was, for I thought he vas 
after my precious yaller envelope. But I thought of 
my bowie knife, which I always carried out of sight 
in my bosom, unt resolved dat I vould stick it in 
his heart, if he tried to take away my papers. But 
I never moved. He felt over me until he come to 
de pocket where I had the silver dollars, unt then 
slipped his fingers in, unt pulled them out one by 
one, just as gently as if he vas smoothing the hair 
of a cat. I let him take them all, without moving a 
muscle. I was glad to haf him take them. I knowed 
that he was playing poker somewhere, unt had run 
out of cash, unt would take my money unt go back 
to his game. 

‘*As soon as I heard his footsteps disappear in the 
distance, I got up unt sneaked down to where the 
Headquarters horses were tied. I must get a fresh 
one, because my own vas played nearly ^out. He 
would never do to carry me over the rough roads I 
must ride before morning. But when I got there I 
saw a guard pacing up unt down in front of them. I 
had not counted on this, unt for a minit my heart 
stood still. There were no other horses anywheres 
around. 

'T hesitated, looked up at Headquarters, unt saw 
de lights still burning, unt made up my mind at 
once to risk everything on one desperate chance. I 
remembered that I had put in my envelope some 


64 


SI KLEGG. 


blank sheets of paper, with Headquarters, Army of 
the Frontier,’ unt a rebel flag on dem. There was a 
big fire burning ofer to the right mit no one near. 
I went up in de shadow of a tree, where I could 
see by the firelight, took out one of the sheet's of 
paper unt wrote on it an order to have a horse 
saddled for me at once. Then I slipped back so that 
it would look as if I was coming straight from 
Headquarters, unt walked up to the guard unt 
handed him the order. He couldn’t read a word, 
but he recognized the heading on the paper, unt I 
told him the rest. He thought there was nothing 
for him to do but obey. 

“While he was getting the horse 1 wrote out, by the 
fire, a pass for myself through the guards. I was in 
a hurry, you bet, unt it was all done mighty quick, 
unt I was on the, horse’s back unt started. I had 
lost all direction, but I knowed that I had to go gen- 
erally to the northeast to get to General Curtis. But 
I got confused again, unt found I was riding around 
unt around the camp without getting out at all. I 
even come up again near the big fire, just where 
I wrote qut the pass. 

“Just then what should I hear but Bob Smiles’s 
voice. He had lost all his money — all my money — 
at poker, unt was damning the fellers he had been 
playing with as cheats. He was not in a temper to 
meet, unt I knowed he would see me if I went by the 
big fire; but I was desperate, unt I stuck the spurs 
into my horse unt he shot ahead. I heard Bob 
Smiles yell: 

“ ‘There is that Jew. Where is he going? Halt, 
there! Stop him!’ 


A SPY'S EXPERIENCE. 


65 


“I knowed that if I stopped now I would be hung 
sure. The only safety was to go as fast as I could. 
1 dashed away, where, I didn't know. Directly a 
guard halted me, but I showed him my pass, unt 
he let me go on. While he was looking at it I 
strained my ears, unt could hear horses galloping 
my way. I knowed it was Bob Smiles after me. My 
horse was a good one, unt I determined to get on 
the main road unt go as fast as I could. I could 
see by the campfires that I was now getting away 
from the army, unt I began to hope that I was going 
north. I kept my horse running. 

‘‘Pretty soon the pickets halted me, but I didn't 
stop to answer them. I just bolted ahead. The 
chances of their shooting me wasn't as dreadful as of 
Bob Smiles catching me. They fired at me, but I 
galloped right through them, unt through a rain of 
bullets that they sent after me. I felt better then, for 
I was confident I was out in the open country, but 
I kept my horse on the run. It seemed to me that I 
went a hundred miles. 

“Just as the day was breaking in the east, I heard 
a voice, with a strong German accent call out the 
bfush : 

“ ‘Halt! Who comes there?' 

“I was so glad that I almost fainted, for I knowed 
that I'd reached General Sigel's pickets. I couldn't 
get my lips to answer. 

“There came a lot of shots, unt one of them struck 
my horse in the head, unt he fell in the road, throw- 
ing me over his head. The pickets run out unt 
picked me up. The German language sounded the 
sweetest I ever heard it. 


66 


SI KLEGG. 


''As soon as I could make myself talk, I answered 
them in German, unt told them who I was. Then 
they couldn’t do enough for me. They helped me 
back to where they could get an ambulance, in which 
they sent me to Headquarters, for I was too weak to 



ride or walk a step. I handed my yellow envelope to 
General Curtis, got a dram of whisky to keep me up 
while I answered his questions, unt then went to 


A SPY'S EXPERIENCE. 


67 


sleep, unt slept through the whole battle of Pea 
Ridge. 

*'After the battle, General Curtis wanted to know 
how much he ought to pay me, but I told him that 
all I wanted was to serve the country, unt I was al- 
ready paid many times over, by helping him win a 
victory. 

‘'But I concluded that there was too much Bob 
Smiles in that country for me, unt I had better leave 
for some parts where I was not likely to meet him. 
So I crossed the Mississippi River, unt joined Gen- 
eral Rosecrans's Headquarters." 


CHAPTER V. 


THE BOYS GO SPYING — ON AN EXPEDITION WITH 
ROSENBAUM THEY MAKE A CAPTURE. 

M r. ROSENBBAUM’S stories of adventure 
were not such as to captivate the boys with 
the career of a spy. But the long stay in 
camp was getting very tedious, and they longed for 
something to break the monotony of camp guard and 
work on the interminable fortifications. Therefore, 
when Mr. Rosenbaum came over one morning with 
a proposition to take them out on an expedition, he 
found them ready to go. He went to Regimental 
Headquarters, secured a detail for them, and, re- 
turning to the Hoosier’s Rest, found the boys lugu- 
briously pulling over a pile of homespun garments 
they had picked up among the teamsters and camp- 
followers. 

*T suppose weVe got to wear ’em. Shorty,” said 
Si, looking very disdainfully at a butternut-colored 
coat and vest. ‘'But I’d heap rather wear a mustard 
plaster. I’d be aheap comf ortabler.” . 

‘T ain’t myself finicky about clothes,” answered 
Shorty. ‘T ain’t no swell — never was. But some- 
how I’ve got a prejudice in favor of blue as a color, 
and agin gray and brown. I only like gray and 
brown on a corpse. They make purty grave clothes. 
I always like to bury a man what has butternut 
clothes on.” 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


69 


^What are you doing with them dirty rags, boys?’" 
asked Kosenbaum, in astonishment, as he surveyed 
the scene.. 

“Why, weVe got to wear 'em, haven't we, if we 
go out with you?" asked Si. 

“You wear them when you go out with me — you 
disguise yourselves," said Rosenbaum, with fine scorn. 
“You'd play the devil in disguise. You can't dis- 
guise your tongues. That's the worst. Anybody'd 
catch on to that Indianny lingo first thing. You've 
got to speak like an educated man — speak like I 
do — to keep people from finding out where you're 
from. I speak correct English always. Nobody can 
tell where I'm from." 

The boys had hard work controlling their risibles 
over Mr. Rosenbaum's self-complacency. 

“What clothes are we to wear, then?" asked Si, 
much puzzled. 

“Wear what you please ; wear the clothes you have 
on, or anything else. This is not to be a full-dress 
affair. Gentlemen can attend in their working 
clothes if they want to." 

“I don't understand," mumbled Si. 

“Of course, you dont," said Rosenbaum gaily. “If 
you did, you would know as much as I do, unt I 
wouldn't have no advantage." 

“All right," said Shorty’ “We've decided to go 
it blind. Go ahead. Fix it up to suit yourself. We 
are your huckleberries for anything that you kin 
turn up. It all goes in our $13 a month." 

“0. K.," answered Resenbaum. “That's the right 
way. Trust me, unt I will bring you out all straight. 
Now, let me tell you something. When you cap- 


70 


SI KLEGG. 


tured me, after a hard struggle, as you remember 
(and he gave as much of a wink as his prominent 
Jewish nose would admit) , I was an officer on Gen- 
eral Roddey’s staff. It was, unt still is, my business 
to keep up express lines by which the rebels are 
supplied with quinine, medicines, gun-caps, letters, 
giving information, unt other things. Unt I do it.^^ 

The boys opened their eyes wide, and could not re- 
strain an exclamation of surprise. 

“Now, hold your horses; don’t get excited,” said 
Rosenbaum calmly. “You don’t know as much about 
war as I do — ^not by a hundred per cent. These 
things are always done in every war, unt General 
Rosecrans understands the tricks of war better as 
any man in the army. He beats them all when it 
comes to getting information about the enemy. He 
knows that a dog that fetches must carry, unt that 
the best way is to let a spy take a little to the enemy, 
unt bring a good deal back. 

“The trouble at the battle of Stone River was that 
the spies took more to General Bragg than they 
brought to General Rosecrans. But General Rose- 
crans was new to the work then. It won’t be so in 
future. He knows a great deal more about the 
rebels now than they know about him, thanks to 
such men as me.” 

“I don’t know as we ought to have anything to 
do with this, Shorty,” said Si dubiously. “At least, 
we ought to inquire of the Colonel first.” 

“That’s all right — ^that’s all right,” said Rosen- 
baum quickly. “I’ve got the order from the Colonel 
which will satisfy you. Read it yourself.” 

He handed the order to Si, who looked carefully 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


71 


at the printed heading, “Headquarters, 200th Ind., 
near Murfreesboro', Tenn.," and then read, the order 
aloud to Shorty: “Corporal Josiah Klegg and one 
private, whom he may select, will report to Mr. Levi 
Rosenbaum for special duty, and will obey such 
orders and instructions as he may give, and on re- 
turn report to these Headquarters. By order of 
the Colonel. Philip Blake, Adjutant." 

“That seems all straight. Shorty," said Si, folding 
up the order, and putting it in his pocket. 

“Straight as a string," assented Shorty. “Fm 
ready, anyway. Go ahead, Mr. Cheap Clothing. I 
don't care much what it is, so long's it ain't shovelin' 
and diggin' on the fortifications. I'll go down to 
Tullahoma and pull old Bragg out of his tent rather 
than handle a pick and shovel any longer." 

“Well, as I was going to tell you, I liave been back 
to Tullahoma several times since you captured me, 
unt I have got the express lines between here unt 
there running pretty well. I have to tell them all 
sorts of stories how I got away from the Yankees. 
Luckily, I have a pretty good imagination, unt can 
furnish them with first-class narratives. 

“But there is one feller on the staff that I'm afraid 
of. His name is Poke Bolivar, unt he is a terrible 
feller, I tell you. Always full of fight, unt des- 
perate when he gets into a fight. I've seen him bluff 
all those other fellers. He is a red-hot Secession- 
ist, unt wants to kill every Yankee in the country. 
Of late he has seemed very suspicious of me, unt has 
said lots of things that scared me. I want to settle 
him, either kill him or take him prisoner, unt keep 
him away, so's I can feel at ease when I'm in Gen- 


72 


SI KLEGG. 


eral Bragg's camp. I can’t do that so long as I know 
he’s aroupd, for I feel that his eyes are on me, unt 
that he’s hunting some way to trip me up. 

“I’m going out now to meet him, at a house about 
five miles from the lines. I have my pockets unt the 
pockets on my saddles full of letters unt things. 
Just outside the lines I will get some more. He 
will meet me unt we will go back to Tullahoma to- 
gether — that is, if he don’t kill me before we get 
there. I have brought a couple of revolvers, in addi- 
tion to your guns, for Poke Bolivar’s a terrible 
feller to fight, unt I want you to make sure of him. 
I’d take more’n two men out, but I’m afraid he’d 
get on to so many. 

“I guess we two kin handle him,” said Shorty, 
slipping his belt into the holster of the revolver 
and buckling it on. “Give us a fair show at him, 
and we don’t want no help. I wouldn’t mind having 
it out with Mr. Bolivar all by myself.” 

“Well, my plan is for you to go out by yourselves 
to that place where you were on picket. Then take 
the right-hand road through the creek bottom, as 
if you were going foraging. About two miles from 
the creek you will see a big hewed-log house stand- 
ing on the left of the road. You will know it by its 
having brick outside chimneys, unt de doors painted 
blue unt yaller. There’s no other house in that 
country like it. . 

“You’re to keep out of sight as much as you 
can. Directly you will see me come riding out, 
follered by a nigger riding another horse. I will go 
up to the house, jump off, tie my horse, go inside, 
unt presently come out unt tie a white cloth ta 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


78 


a post on the porch. That will be a signal to Poke 
Bolivar, who will be watching from the hill a mile 
ahead. You will see him come in, get off his horse, 
unt go into the house. 

“By this time it will be dark, or nearly so. You 
slip up as quietly as you can, right by the house, 
hiding yourselves behind the lilacs. If the dogs run 
at you bayonet them. You can look through the win- 
dows, unt see me unt Bolivar sitting by the fy:e talk- 
ing, unt getting ready to start for Tullahoma as 
soon as the nigger who is cooking our supper in the 
kitchen outside gets it ready unt we eat it. You 
can wait till you see us sit do^vn to eat supper, unt 
then jump us. Better wait until we are pretty near 
through supper, for Pll be very hungry,unt want 
all I can get to keep me up for my long ride. 

“You run in unt order us to surrender. Pll jump 
up unt blaze away with my revolver, but you needn’t 
pay much attention to me — only be careful not to 
shoot me. While you are ’tending to Bolivar I’ll get 
on my horse unt skip out. You can kill Bolivar, or 
take him back to camp with you, or do anything that 
you please, so long’s you keep him away from Tulla- 
homa. You understand, now?” 

“Perfectly,” said Shorty. “I think we can man- 
age it, and it looks like a pretty good arrangement. 
You are to git away, and we’re to git Mr. Bolivar. 
Those two things are settled. Any change in the 
evening’s program will depend on Mr. Bolivar. If 
he wants a fight he kin git whole gobs of it.” 

Going over the plan again; to make sure that the 
boys understood it, and cautioning them once more 
as to the sanguinary character of Polk Bolivar, Mr. 


74 


SI KLEGG. 


Rosenbaum started for his horse. He had gone but 
a little ways when he came back with his face full 
of concern. 

“I like you boys better than I can tell you/' he 
said, taking their hands affectionately, “unt I never 
would forgive myself if you got hurt. Do you think 
that two of you'll be able to manage Poke Bolivar? 
If you're not sure I'll get another man to help you. 
I think, that I had better, anyway." 

“0, go along with you," said Shorty scornfully. 
“Don't worry about us and Mr. Bolivar. I'd stack 
Si Klegg up against any man that ever wore gray, 
in any sort of a scrimmage he could put up, and 
I'm a better man than Si. You just favor us with 
a meeting with Mr. Bolivar, and then git out o' 
the way. If it wasn't for dividing up fair with my 
partner here I'd go out by myself and tackle Mr. 
Bolivar. You carry out your share of the plan, and 
don't worry about us." 

Rosenbaum's countenance brightened, and he 
hastened to mount and away. The boys shouldered 
their guns and started out for the long walk. They 
followed Rosenbaum's directions carefully, and ar- 
rived in sight of the house, which they recognized 
at once, and got into a position from which they 
could watch its front. Presently they saw Rosen- 
baum come riding along the road and stop in front 
of the house. He tied his horse to a scraggy locust 
tree, went in, and then reappeared and fastened the 
signal to a post supporting the roof of the porch. 

They had not long to wait for the answer. Soon 
a horseman was seen descending from the distant 
hill. As he came near he was anxiously scanned. 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


75 


and appeared a cavalier so redoubtable as to fully 
justify Rosenbaum's apprehensions. He was a tall, 
strongly-built young man, who sat on his spirited 
horse with easy and complete mastery of him. Even 



at that distance it could be seen that he was heavily 
armed. 

'Tooks like a genuine fighter, and no mistake," 
said Si, examining the caps on his revolver. ''He'll 
be a stiff one to tackle." 



76 


SI KLEGG. 


'‘We must be very careful not to let him get the 
drop on us/’ said Shorty. “He looks quicker’n 
lightnin’, and I’ve no doubt that he kin shoot like 
Dan’l Boone. We might drop him from here with 
our guns,” he added suggestively. 

“No,” said Si, “that wouldn’t be fair. And it 
wouldn’t be the way Kosenbaum wants it done. 
He’s got his reasons for the other way. Besides, 
I’d be a great deal better satisfied in my mind, if 
I could have it out with him, hand-to-hand. It’d 
sound so much better in the regiment.” 

“Guess that’s so,” assented Shorty. “Well, let’s 
sneak up to the house.” 

When they got close to the house they saw that it 
had been deserted; there were no dogs or other do- 
mestic animals about, and this allowed them to get 
under the shade of the lilacs without discovery. The 
only inmates were Rosenbaum and Bolivar, who 
were seated before a fire, which Rosenbaum had 
built in the big fireplace in the main room. The 
negro was busy cooking supper in the .outbuilding 
which served as a kitchen. The glass was broken 
out the window, and they could hear the conversa- 
tion between Rosenbaum and Bolivar. 

It appeared that Rosenbaum had been making a 
report of his recent doings, to which Bolivar lis- 
tened with a touch of disdain mingled with sus- 
picion. 

The negro brought in the supper, and the men 
ate it sitting by the fire. 

“I declare,” said Bolivar, stopping with a piece of 
bread and meat in one hand and a tin-cup of coffee 
in the other, “that for a man who is devoted to tho 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


77 


South you can mix up with these Yankees with 
less danger to yourself and to them than any man 
I ever knew. You never get hurt, and you’ never 
hurt any of them. That’s a queer thing for a sol- 
dier. War means hurting people, and getting hurt 
yourself. It means taking every chance to hurt some 



of the enemy. I never miss any opportunity of kill- 
ing a Yankee, no matter what I may be doing, or 
what the risk is to me. I can’t help myself. , When- 
ever I see a Yankee in range I let him have it. I 
never go near their lines without killing at least 


78 


SI KLEGG. 


Shorty's thumb played a little with his gunlock, 
but Si restrained him with a look. 

'‘Well," said Rosenbaum, “I hates the enemy as 
badly as any one can, but I always have business 
more important at the time than killing men. I 
want to get through with what I have to do, unt let 
other men do the killing. There's enough gentlemen 
like you for that work." 

“No, there's not enough," said Bolivar savagely. 
“It's treasonable for you to say so. Our enemies 
outnumber us everywhere. It is the duty of every 
true Southern man to kill them off at every chance, 
like he would rattlesnakes and wolves. You are 
either not true to the South, or you hain't the right 
kind of grit. Why, you have told me yourself that 
you let two Yankees capture you, without firing a 
shot. Think of it; a Confederate officer captured 
by two Yankee privates, without firing a shot." 

“They had the dead drop on me," murmured Ro- 
senbaum. “If I had moved they'd killed me sure." 

“Dead drop on you !" repeated Bolivar scornfully. 
“Two men with muskets have the dead drop on 
you ! And you had a carbine and a revolver. Why, 
I have ridden into a nest of 10 or 15 Yankees, who 
had me covered with their guns. I killed three of 
them, wounded three others, and run the rest away 
with my empty revolver. If I'd had another revol- 
ver, not one would've got away alive. I always 
carry two revolvers now." 

“I think our guns'll be in the way in that room," 
said Shorty, setting his down. His face bore a look 
of stern determination. “They're too long. I'm 
itching to have it out with that feller hand-to-hand. 


'THE BOYS GO spying. 


70 


We’ll rush in. You pretend to be goin’ for Rosen- 
baum and leave me to have it out with Mr. Bolivar. 
Don’t you mix in at all. If I don’t settle him he 
ought to be allowed to go.” 

'‘No,” said Si decisively. “I’m your superior 



officer, and it’s my privilege to have the first shy 
at him. I’ll ’tend to him. I want a chance single- 
handed at a man that talks that way. You take 
care of Rosenbaum.” 


80 


SI KlJEGO. 


“We mustn't dispute," said Shorty, stooping down 
and picking up a couple of straws. “Here, pull. 
The feller that gits the longest 'tends to Bolivar; 
the other to Rosenbaum." 

Si drew and left the longer straw in Shorty's 
hand. They drew their revolvers and rushed for 
the room. Shorty leading. Rosenbaum and Bolivar 
sprang up in alarm at the sound of their feet on 
the steps, and drew their revolvers. 

“Surrender, you^ infernal rebels," shouted the 
boys, as they bolted through the door. 

With the quickness of a cat, Rosenbaum had 
sidled near the door through which they had come. 
Suddenly he fired two shots into the ceiling, and 
sprang through the door so quickly that Si had 
merely the chance to fire a carefully-aimed shot 
through the top of his hat. Si jumped toward the 
door again, and fired a shot in the air, for still 
further make-believe. He would waste no more, but 
reserve the other four for Bolivar, if he should need 
them. 

Shorty confronted Bolivar with fierce eyes and 
leveled revolver, eagerly watching every movement 
and expression. The rebel was holding his pistol 
pointed upward, and his eyes looked savage. As his 
eyes met Shorty's the latter was amazed to see him 
close the left with a most emphatic wink. Seeing 
this was recognized, the rebel fired two shots into 
the ceiling, and motioned with his left hand to Si 
to continue firing. Without quite understanding. Si 
fired again. The rebel gave a terrific yell and fired 
a couple of shots out the window. 

“Do the same," he said to Shorty, who complied. 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


81 


as Si had done, in half-comprehension. The rebel 
handed his revolver to Shorty, stepped to the win- 
dow and listened. 

There came the sounds of two horses galloping 
away on the hard, rocky road. 

'‘He’s gone, and taken the nigger with him,” he 
said contentedly, turning from the window, and 
giving another fierce yell. "Better fire the other two 
shots out of that pistol, to hurry him along.” 

Shorty fired the remaining shots out of the rebel’s 
revolver. 

"What regiment do you belong to, boys?” asked 
Bolivar calmly. 

"The 200th Ind.,” answered Si, without being able 
to control his surprise. 

"A very good regiment,” said the rebel. "What’s 
your company?” 

"Co. Q,” answered Si. 

"Who’s your Colonel?” 

"Col. Duckworth.” 

"Who’s your Captain?” 

"Capt. McGillicuddy.” 

"All right,” said the rebel, with an air of satis- 
faction. "I asked those questions to make sure you 
were genuine Yankees. One can’t be too careful in 
my business. I’m in the United States Secret Serv- 
ice, and have to be constantly on the watch to keep 
it from being played on me by men pretending to 
be Yankees when they are rebels, and rebels when 
they are Yankees. I always make it the first point 
to ask them the names of their officers. I know 
almost all the officers in command on both sides.” 

"You in the Secret Service?” exploded the boys. 


4 


SI KLEGd. 


S2 

They were on the point of adding “too” but some- 
thing whispered to them not to betray Rosenbaum. 

“Yes,” answered Bolivar. ‘TVe just come from 
Tullahoma, where Fve been around Bragg’s Head- 
quarters. I wanted to get inside our lines, but I 
was puzzled how to do it. That Jew you’ve just 
run off bothered me. I wish to the Lord you’d 
killed him. I’m more afraid of him than any other 
man in Bragg’s army. He’s smart as a briar, 
always nosing around where you don’t want him, 
and anxious to do something to commend him to 
Headquarters, Jew like. I’ve thought he suspected 
me, for he’d been paying special attention to me for 
some weeks. Two or three times I’ve been on the 
point of tolling him into the woods somewhere and 
killing him, and so get rid of him. It’s all right 
now. He’ll go back to Tullahoma with a fearful 
story of the fight I made against you, and that I 
am probably killed. I’ll turn up there in a week or two 
with my own story, and I’ll give him fits for hav- 
ing skipped out and left me to fight you two alone. 
Say, it’s a good ways to camp. Let’s start at once, 
for I want to get to Headquarters as soon as pos- 
sible.” 

“You’ve got another revolver there,” said Si, who 
had prudently reloaded his own weapon. 

“That’s so,” said Bolivar, pulling it out. “You 
can take and carry it or I’ll take the cylinder out, 
if you are not convinced about me.” 

“You’d better let me carry it,” said Shorty, shov- 
ing the revolver in his own belt. “These are queer 
time», and one can’t be too careful with rebels who 


THE BOYS GO SPYING. 


83 


claim to be Yankees, and Yankees who claim to be 
rebels.’" 

They trudged back to camp, taking turns riding 
the horse. When the rebel rode, however, one of 
the boys walked alongside with the bridle in his 
hand. All doubts as to Bolivar’s story were dis- 
pelled by his instant recognition by the Provost- 
Marshal, who happened to be at the picket-post 
when they reached camp. 

“The longer I live,” remarked Shorty, as they 
made their way along to the Hoosier’s Rest, “and 
I seem to live a little longer every day, the less I 
seem to understand about this war.” 

Shorty spoke as if he had had an extensive ac- 
quaintance with wars. 

“The only thing that I’ve come to be certain 
^ about,” assented Si, “is that you sometimes most 
always can’t generally tell.” 

And they proceeded to get themselves some sup- 
per, accompanying the work of denunciations of the 
Commissary for the kind of rations he was drawing 
for the regiment, and of the Orderly-Sergeant for 
his letting the other Orderlies eucher him out of 
the company’s fair share. 


CHAPTEI VI. 


LETTER FROM HOME — THE DEACON'S TROUBLES IN 
GETTING HOME WITH ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

O NE MORNING the Orderly-Sergeant handed 
Si the following letter: 

Deer Son: I got hoam safely a weke ago, 
thanks 2 all-protecting Providens; likewise 2 about 
175 pound of tuff & helthy Josiah Klegg. Providens 
helpt rite along, but it tuk 50-year-old Injianny 
hickory & whit-leather 2 pull through sum ov the 
tite plasis. 

Abraham Lincoln is as strong as an ox, but I 
never thought that anything that diddent wear 
horns or chew the cud could be so measly dumb. 
He kin eat as much as Buck, our off-steer, & I de- 
clare I don’t believe he knows any more. 

We had only bin on the train long enuff for Abe 
to finish up the whole of the 3 days rations you 
provided us with 2 last us home, when I notist that 
Blowhard Billings was on board. He was still 
dressed in full uniform, & playin off officer yit, but 
I happened 2 recolleck that he was no officer no 
more, & it wuz lucky that I done so. He wuz lookin 
at me & Abe hard with them mean, catfish ize ov 
hizn. 

Jest as a matter ov precaushon, I make Abe 
change seats with me & taik the inside. Billings 


LETTER FROM HOME. 


85 


cairn up. You know what I thought ov him ov old, 
& there’s never bin any love lost betwixt us sence 
I stopped him cheatin poor Eli Mitchell outen his 
plow-team. I told him then that the coppers on a 
dead nigger’s eyes wuzzent saif when he wuz 
around, & I woulddent trust him ez fur ez I could 
sling a bull by the tale. He got mad at this & never 
got over it. I never encouraged him to. I would- 
dent feel satisfied with myself if he wuzzent mad at 
me. I coulddent change my opinion, even when he 
tried to steal into respectability by goin into the 
army. I knowed he’d do anything but fite, & 
woulddent’ve bin supprized any day by hearing that 
him and the other mules in camp had disappeared 
together. 

Presently Billings he cum up very corjil like & 
says : 

^‘Howdy, Deacon. I hope you air very well.” 

I told him I wuz tollable peart, and he says : 

“I see a man in the third car forward that wuz 
inquiring for you, and wanted to see you powerful 
bad.” 

''That so?” says I, unconcernedlike. 

"Yes,” says he. "He wuz awful anxious to see 
you7 and I said I’d send you to him if I cum acrost 
you.” 

Somehow, I dropped onto it in a minnit that he 
wuz schemin’ to git me away from Abraham Lin- 
coln. 

"Well,” says I, "it’s about ez fur for me forward 
to him as it is for him back here to me. I don’t 
know as I want to see him at all. If he wants to see 
me so bad let him cum\ack here.” 


86 


SI KLEGG. 


'‘I think I’d go forward and see him,” said Bill- 
ings, sort ov impatient-like. “You’ll have no trouble 
finding him. He’s in the third car from here, up at 
the front end, right-hand side, next to the water- 
cooler. He inquired most partickerlerly for you.” 

“Probably he wants 2 borry money,” says I, with- 
out stirrin’. “Men that want particularly 2 see me 
always do. Well, I hain’t got none 2 lend — hain’t 
got no more’n ’ll talk me hoam.” 

“You’d better go forward & see him,” he said very 
bossy like, as if he was orderin me. 

“I’d better stay right here, & I’m goin’ to stay,” 
says I, so decided that Billings see that it was no 
use. 

His patience gave clean away. 

“Look here, Klegg,” said he, mad as a hornet, 
“I’m after that ere nigger you’re trying to steal 
away into Injianny, and by the holy poker I’m goin’ 
to have him ! Come along here, you black ape,” and 
he laid his hand on Abe Lincoln’s collar. Abe 
showed the white ov his eyes as big as buckeyes, put 
his arm around the piece betwixt the winders, and 
held on for deer life. I see by the grip he tuk that 
the only way 2 git him wuz 2 tear out the side of 
the car, and I thought I’d let them tussle it out for 
a minnit or 2. 

The others in the car, who thought it grate fun 
to see a Lieutenant-Kurnel wrastlin’ with a nigger, 
laffed and yelled: 

“Go it, nigger,” 

“Go it, Kurnel,” 

“Grab a root,” ^ 

“He bet on the nigger if the car is stout enuf,” 


LETTER FROM HOME. 


87 


and sich. Jest then Groundhog cum runnin’ up to 
help Billings, and reached over and ketched Abe, 
but I hit him a good biff with the musket that 
changed his mind. Billings turned on me, and called 
out to the others : 

'‘Men, I order you to arrest this man and tie him 
up.'' 

Sum ov them seemed a-mind to obey, but I sung 
out: * 

"Feller-citizens, he ain’t no officer — no more’n I 
am. He ain't got no right to wear shoulder-straps, 
and he knows it as well as I do." 

At this they all turned agin him & began yellin 
at him 2 put his head in a bag. He turned 2 me 
savage as a meat-ax, but I ketched him by the throat, 
& bent him back over the seat. The Provo-Guard 
cum up, & I explained it 2 them, & showed my passes 
for me & Abe. So they made us all sit down & keep 
quiet. 

Bimeby we got to Nashville. Abe Lincoln wuz 
hungry, & I stopped 2 git him something to eat. My 
gracious, the lot ov ham & aigs at 50 cents a plate 
& sandwiches at 25 cents a piece that contraband 
kin eat. He never seemed 2 git full. He looked 
longingly at the pies, but I let him look. I wuzzent 
runnin no Astor House in connexion with the 
Freedmen's buro. 

We walked through the city, crost on the ferry, 
& wuz jest gittin in the cars which wuz about ready 
2 start, when up comes Billings agin, with 2 or 3 
other men in citizen's cloze. One ov these claps 
his hand on my shoulder & says: 

"I'm a Constable, & I arrest you in the name ov 


88 


SI KLEGG. 


the State ov Tennessee for abductin a slave. Make 
no trubble, but come along with me.” 

I jest shook him off, & dumb onto the platform, 
pullin Abe after me. The Constable & his men fol- 
lered us, but I got Abe Lincoln inside the door, shet 
it & made him put his shoulders agin it. The Con- 
stable & his 2 assistants wuz buttin away at it, & me 
grinnin at them when the train pulled off, & they 
had 2 jump off. I begin 2 think there wuz some- 
thing good in Abe Lincoln, after all, & when we 
stopped at an eatin-plais, about half-way 2 Louis- 
ville, & Abe looked at the grub as if he haddent had 
a mouthful sence the war begun, I busted a $2-bill 
all 2 pieces gittin' him a little supper. If I wuz 
goin into the bizniss ov freein slaves IM want 2 
have a mule train haulin grub fullering me at every 
step. 

Abe wuz awful hungry agin when we reached 
Louisville, but I found a place where a dollar would 
buy him enuf pork & beans 2 probably last him 
over the river. 

But I begun 2 be efeard that sum nosin pryin 
Mike Medler might make trubble in gitting Abe 
safely acrost the Ohio. I tuk him 2 a house, & laid 
it down strong 2 him that he must stay inside all 
day, and 2 make sure I bargained with the woman 
2 keep him eating as much as she could. I ruined 
a $5 bill, & even then Abe looked as if he could hold 
some more. I’ve always made it a pint 2 lend 2 
the Lord for the benefit ov the heathen as much as 
my means would allow, but I begun 2 think that my 
missionary contribushions this year would beat what 
I was layin out on my family. 


LETTER FROM HOME. 


89 


After it got dark, me & Abe meandered down 
through the streets 2 the ferry. There wuzzent 
many people out, except soljers, & I've got 2 feel 
purty much at home with them. They seem more 
likely 2 think more nearly my way than folks in 
every-day clothes. 

There wuz quite a passel ov soljers on the wharf- 
boat waitin' for the ferry when we got there. They 
saw at wuns that I had probably bin down 2 the 
front 2 see my son, & sum ov them axed me 2 
what rigiment he belonged. When I told them the 
200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry they all made 
friends with me at wunst, for they said they knowed 
it wuz a good rigiment. 

Bimeby a big, important-lookin' man, with a club 
with a silver head for a cane, cum elbowin through 
the crowd & scowling at everybody as if he owned 
the wharf-boat & all on it. He stopped in frunt ov 
Abraham Lincoln & says very sharp & cross: 

"‘Boy, where did you come from?" 

Abe diddent say nothin'. His ize got all white, 
he grinned sort ov scared like, showed his white 
teeth, & looked sickly over at me. I spoke up & says : 

‘T brung him along with me from Murfreesboro'." 

''So I sposed," said he. "He's a slave you're tryin 
2 steal from his master. You can't do it. I'll jest 
take charge ov him myself. That's my dooty here," 
& he ketched hold ov Abraham Lincoln's collar. 
Abe, in his scare, put out his arms to ketch hold ov 
something, & throwed them around the big impor- 
tant man, & lifted him clean offen his feet. I never 
before realized how strong Abe wuz. The soljers 
gethered around, purty mad, and then laffin and 


90 


SI KLEGG. 


yellin when they see the man in Abe’s arms. Sud- 
denly sum one hollered: 

“Throw him overboard; throw him in the river.” 
Abe was wuss scared than ever when he found 
he had the man in his arms. He wuz afeared 2 
hold on & still more afeared 2 let go. He heard them 
hollerin, & thought he had 2 do jest as they said, 
& begun edgin toward the river. 

The man got more scared than Abe. He began 
kickin & wrigglin & hollerin: 

“Don’t let him do it. Help me. I can’t swim 
a lick.” 

At this the men hollered worsen ever : 

“Throw him in the river! Duck him! Baptize 
him! Drown him!” 

Ime a Baptist, but I don’t believe in immersion 
onless the convert has bin prepared for it, & is 
willin, which neither this man wuz. I stepped for- 
ward 2 make Abe let him down, but before I could 
do anything Abe had got 2 the edge of the wharf- 
boat & let go, & plunk went the man into about 10 
foot ov water. Abe, scared now nearly 2 death, 
stood there with his ize biggern sassers & whitern 
goose-eggs. 

In a minnit the man cum up, sputterin & hollerin. 
A big Sergeant, with his left arm in a sling, reached 
over & ketched him by the collar & held his head 
above water. 

“If I pull you out will you promis 2 go out ov the 
nigger-ketchin bizniss forever?” axed the Sergeant. 

“Pull me out & then I’ll talk 2 you,” says the 
man, grabbin for the slippery sides ov the wharf- 
boat. 


LETTER PROM HOME. 


91 


\ 

‘‘No, I won’t,” said the Sergeant, sousin him under 
water agin. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll promise,” says the man, when he 
come up agin. 

“Will you swear it?” axed the Sergeant. 

“Yes, I’ll swear it before a Justice ov the Peace.” 

“Will you swear 2 support the Constitution ov the 
United States agin all enemies & opposers whatsum- 
ever, & vote for Abraham Lincoln every time?” axed 
the Sergeant. 

“I’ll take the oath ov allegiance,” says the man, 
sputterin the water out ov his mouth, “but I’ll 
never vote for that Abolition ape as long as I live.’^ 

“Then down you go,” says the Sergeant, sousin 
him again. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll vote for Abe Lincoln, & anybody 
else, if you’ll only pull me out,” said the man, in a 
tired tone of voice, when he cum up agin. I begin 
2 see that immersion had a great deal ov good in it, 
even if a man isn’t prepared & willin. 

“Will you swear 2 always love a nigger as a man 
& a brother, until death do you part, & aid & comfort 
all them who are tryin 2 git away from slavery?” 
axed the Sergeant. 

“Damned if I will,” says the man. “No nigger 
kin ever be a brother 2 me. I’ll die first.” 

“Then you’ll die right now,” says the Sergeant, 
sendin him down as far as his long arm would reach 
& holding him there until I wuz scared for fear he 
wuz really goin 2 drown the man. When he brung 
him up the man whimpered: 

“Yes, only pull me out — save my life — & I’ll do 
anything you want.” 


92 


SI KLEGG. 


f 

By this time the ferryboat had cum up. We got 
aboard & crost over to Injianny, & I felt so glad at 
bein on my nativ soil wuns more that I took Abe 
up 2 the eatin stand, & blowed in a dollar filin up 
the vacant plasis in his hide. 

When we tried 2 git on the train there cum an- 
other trubble : The conductor woulddent let him ride 
in the car with white folks — not even in the 
smokin-car. He made him go into the baggage-car. 
Abe wuz so scared about leavin me for a minnit in 
that strange country that I tried 2 go into the 
baggage-car with him, but the conductor woulddent 
let me. He said it wuz agin the rules for passengers 
to ride in the baggage-cars, but Abe could go in 
there, same as dogs, prize poultry, & household pets. 
I tried 2 joke with him, tellin him that in sum plasis 
I wuz considered a household pet, but he said Ide 
have 2 git another mug on me before he could believe 
it. 

One of Zeke Biltner’s hogs ditched the train jest 
before we got home, & turned the baggage-car over. 
Sum crates ov aigs wuz smashed over Abraham Lin- 
coln, & he wuz a sight to behold. He wuz awfully 
scared, though, & begged me 2 let him go the rest 
ov the way on foot. He said he wuz a thousand 
years older than when he left his ole massa, & I 
could understand what he meant. 

I found your mother & the girls bright & chipper 
& jest tickled 2 death to see me safe back. They 
axed me so many questions about you & Shorty 
that my head buzzed like a bee-hive. It is hard 2 
git away from them 2 tend 2 my Spring work, but 
I’ve made an arrangement 2 giv em an hour mornin 


LETTER FROM HOME. 


93 


& evenin 2 answerin questions. I think this will 
keep me purty busy till the snow flise agin. 

Wheat is lookin surprisinly well, though I found 
sum bare plasis in the north field. I think we’ll 
have a fair crop ov apples and peaches. Your colt 
is growin up the purtiest thing that ever went on 
four legs, & jumped an eight-rail' fence. My hogs 
wintered in good shape, & pork is risin. They have 
the measles over on the Crick, & school’s broke up. 
Bill Scripp’s out agin for Sheriff, & I spose He have 
2 turn 2 agin & beat him. Singler, that he’ll never 
know when he’s got enuff. 

If anything, Abraham Lincoln’s appetite has bin 
improved by Wabash air. I wuzzent go in 2 have 
the wimmen folks wear theirselves out cookin for 
him. So I fixed up a place for him in the old log 
house, & took him over some sides ov meat, a few 
bushel ov pertaters, a jug ov sorghum molasses, & 
every time mother bakes she sends over some leaves 
ov bread. I jest turned him loose there. He seems 
2 be very happy, & we hear him singin & yellin 
most all the time when he’s by hisself. He’s a 
good worker when I stand right over him, & he’ll lift 
& dig as patient as an ox. But he hain’t no more 
sense about goin ahead by hisself than a steer has, 
& the moment my back’s turned he stops work. Ime 
af eared I’ve got a job on my hands makin a first- 
class farmer out ov him. But if that’s my share ov 
the work that Providens has chalked out for me, 
there’s nothin left for me but 2 go ahead & do it 
in fear & tremblin. 

No more from your affeckshionate father. 

P. S. Give my best respects 2 Shorty. 


CHAPTER VII. 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK — SI AND SHORTY GO 
FORAGING AND ARE CAPTURED AND ROBBED. 

S I AND SHORTY got the common feeling of 
men of some months’ service, that they had 
fully mastered the art of war, and that there 
was little, if anything, left for them to learn. It 
did not take some men even so long as months to 
acquire this pleasant idea of themselves. Some en- 
tered the army feeling quite capable of giving ad- 
vice to the oldest General in it, and they were not 
slow about offering their opinions. 

Si and Shorty had had successes enough since 
their enlistment to develop a self-confidence which 
might be pardoned if it expanded into self-suffi- 
ciency and vanity. 

The 200th Ind. had been sent out on a reconnois- 
sance toward Shelby ville. No sign of rebels in force 
developed in any direction, and Si and Shorty got 
permission to go off on a little scout of their own. 

'‘No use o’ huntin’ rebels with a brass band,” said 
Si, who, since his association with Mr. Rosenbaum, 
had gotten some idea that stealth and cunning were 
efficient war powers. “We kin jest slip around out 
here somewhere, and if there is any rebels, find ’em, 
and git more information than the whole regiment 
kin.” 

“I’m not so thirsty for information and rebels 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


95 


as I am for some fresh buttermilk,” said Shorty. 
‘'Somehow, Fve been hankering for buttermilk and 
cornpone for days. I hain’t had any for a coon's 
age, and it’d go mighty good as a change from camp 
rations. Buttermilk and rebels sometimes grow 
near together. You look for one. I’ll look for the 
other. Mebbe we kin git both.” 

“I wouldn’t mind havin’ some buttermilk an’ corn- 
pone myself,” said Si. “But I’d like much better 
to drop on some rebels somewhere, and bring ’em 
into camp, and show that we kin git more informa- 
tion than the whole regiment kin.” 

“All right,” assented Shorty; “ask the Captain to 
let us go. I’ll be bound we’ll find something worth 
goin’ for, if it’s no more’n a chicken for the Captain’s 
supper. I’d like to take in one for him. He’s been 
mighty good to me and you in several ways, and 
I’d like to show him that we appreciate it.” 

As the regiment had gone as far as ordered with- 
out discovering anything that in the least threatened 
the peace in that portion of Tennessee, it would 
start on its return, after the men had rested and 
had dinner. Si and Shorty, consequently, had no 
difficulty in securing the desired permission. 

They cut off through a side-road, which gave 
promise of leading into a better-settled part of the 
country than that they had been traversing. A mile 
or so of walking brought them in sight of the sub- 
stantial chimneys of a farmhouse showing above the 
trees. A glimpse of a well-fenced field roused warm 
hopes in Shorty’s heart. 

“Now, I think we’re cornin’ to a better thing than 
we’ve ever struck before,” said he, as they stopped 


96 


SI KLEGG. 


and surveyed the prospect. “We've got out o’ the 
barren plateaus and into the rich farming country. 
That’s likely a farm jest like they have up in In- 
jianny, and it’s way off where they hain’t knowed 
nothin’ o’ the war. No soljer’s ever anigh ’em, and 
they’ve jest got lots and plenty o’ everything. 
They’ve got a great big barnyard full o’ chickens 
and turkeys, pigs and geese and guineas. There, 
you kin hear the guineas hollerin’ now. There’s 
cows layin’ in the shade chawin’ the cud, while their 
calves are cavortin’ around in the sun, hogs rootin’ 
in the woods-pasture, horses and sheep in the med- 
der, and everything like it is at home. And down a 
little ways from the house there’s a cool spring- 
house, with clear, cold water wellin’ up and ripplin’ 
out over the clean, white sand, with crocks o’ fresh 
milk setting in it with cream half an inch thick, and 
big jars o’ buttermilk from the last churnin’, and 
piggins o’ fresh butter, and mebbe a big crock full 
o’ smearkase. Si, do you like smear kase?” 

“ ’Deed I do,” answered Si, his mouth watering at 
the thought. “My goodness, you jest orter eat some 
o’ mother’s smearkase. She jest lays over all the 
women in the country for smearkase. Many’s the 
time I’ve come in hot and sweatin from the field, and 
got a thick slice o’ bread clear acrost the loaf from 
one o’ the girls, and went down to our spring-house 
and spread it with fresh butter, and then put a 
thick layer o’ smearkase on top o’ that, and then got 
about a quart o’ cool milk, that was half cream, 
from one o’ the crocks, and then” 

“Shet up. Si,” shouted Shorty, desperately. “Do 
you v/ant me to bang you over the head with my 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


97 


musket? Do you s’pose I kin stand everything? 
But I believe there’s jest sich a spring-house down 
there, and we’ll find it plumb-full o’ all them sort 
o’ things. Le’s mosey on.” 

‘'Do you think there’s any rebels around here?” 
said Si, the caution which experience had taught him 
making a temporary reassertion of itself. 

“Naw,” said Shorty, contemtpuously, “there ain’t 
no rebel this side o’ the Duck River, unless some 
straggler, who’d run if he saw us. If we ketch sight 
o’ one we’ll take him into camp, jest to gratify you. 
But I ain’t lookin’ for none. Buttermilk and corn- 
pone’s what I want.” 

The scene was certainly peaceful enough to justify 
Shorty’s confidence. A calmer, quieter landscape 
could not have been found in the whole country. 
A negro was plowing in a distant field, with occa- 
sional sonorous yells to his team. He did not seem 
to notice the soldiers, nor did a gray-haired white 
man who was sitting on the fence superintending 
him. A couple of negresses were washing the fam- 
ily linen by a fire under a large kettle on the creek 
bank, at some distance from the house, and spread- 
ing the cleansed garments out on the grass to dry 
and bleach. Cattle and horses were feeding on the 
fresh Spring grass and sheep browsing on the 
bushes on the hillside. Hens cackled and roosters 
crowed ; the guineas, ever on the lookout, announced 
their approach with shrill, crackling notes. Two or 
three dogs waked up and barked lazily at them as 
they walked up the path to where an' elderly, spec- 
tacled woman sat on the porch knitting. She raised 


98 


SI KLEGG. 


/ 

/ 


her eyes and threw her spectacles on top of her 
head, and looked curiously at them. 

Whatever faint misgivings Si might have had van- 
ished at the utter peacefulness of the scene. It was 
so like the old home that he had left that he could 
not imagine that war existed anywhere near. It 
seemed as if the camp at Murfreesboro’ and the 
bloody field of Stone River must be a thousand miles 
away. The beds of roses and pinks which bordered 
the walk were the same as decorated the front yard 
at home. There were the same clumps of snowballs 
and lilacs at the corners of the house. 

‘'Howdy, gentlemen?” said the woman, as they 
came up. 

It seemed almost a wrong and insult to be carry- 
ing deadly arms in the presence of such a woman, 
and Si and Shorty let their guns slip down, as if 
they were rather ashamed of them. 

“Good day, ma’am,” said Shorty, taking off his hat 
politely and wiping his face. “We’re lookin’ around 
to git some cornpone and buttermilk, and didn’t 
know but what you might let us have some. We’re 
willin’ to pay for it.” 

“If you want suthin’ to eat,” said the woman 
promptly, “I kin gin it to ye. I never turn no hungry 
man away from my door. Wait a minnit, and I’ll 
bring ye some.” 

She disappeared inside the house, and Si remarked 
to Shorty : 

“Your head’s level this time, as it generally is. 
We’ll git something that’s worth while cornin’ after.” 

The woman reappeared with a couple of good-size 
c urn-dodgers in her hand. 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


99 


‘This appears to be all the bread that’s left over 
from dinner,” she said. “And the meat’s all gone. 
But the wenches ’ll be through their washin’ purty 
soon, and then I’ll have them cook ye some more, if 
ye’ll wait.” 

“Thankee, ma’am,” said Shorty; “we can’t wait. 
This’ll be a plenty, if we kin only git some butter- 
milk to go with it. We don’t want no meat. We git 
plenty o’ that in camp.” 

“You can have all the buttermilk you want to 
drink,” she answered, “if you’ll go down to the 
spring-house thar and git it. It’s fresh, and you’ll 
find a gourd right beside o’ the jar. I’d go with you, 
but it allers gives me rheumatiz to go nigh the 
spring-house.” 

“Don’t bother, ma’am, to go with us,” said Shorty 
politely. “We are very much obliged to you, indeed, 
and we kin make out by ourselves. How much do 
we owe you?” And he pulled a greenback dollar 
from his pocket. 

“Nothin’, nothin’ at all,” said the woman hastily. 
“I don’t sell vittels. Never thought o’ sich a thing. 
Ye’re welcome to all ye kin eat any time.” 

“Well, take the money, and let us ketch a couple 
of them chickens there,” said Shorty, laying down 
the bill on the banister rail. 

After a little demur the woman finally agreed to 
this, and picked up the money. The boys selected 
two fat chickens, ran them down, wrung their necks, 
and, after repeating their thanks, took their bread 
and started for the spring-house. They found it 
the coolest and most inviting place in the world on 
a hot, tiresome day — just such a spot as Shorty had 


100 


SI KLEGG. 


described. It was built of rough stones, and covered 
with a moss-grown roof. A copious spring poured 
out a flood of clear, cool water, which flowed over 
white pebbles and clean-looking sand until it formed 



a cress-bordered rivulet just beyond the house. In 
the water sat crocks of fresh milk, a large jar of 
buttermilk, and buckets of butter. The looks, the 
cool, pure freshness of the place, were delightful 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


101 


contrasts from the tiresome smells and appearances 
of the camp kitchens. The boys reveled in the 
change. They forgot all about war’s alarms, stood 
their rifles up against the side of the spring-house, 
washed their dust-grimed faces and hands in the 
pure water, dried them with their handkerchiefs, 
and prepared to enjoy their meal. How good the 
buttermilk tasted along with the cornpone. The 
fresh milk was also sampled, and some of the butter 
spread upon their bread. 

Si even went to the point of declaring that it was 
almost as good as the things he used to eat at home, 
which was the highest praise he could possibly give 
to any food. Si never found anywhere victuals or 
cooking to equal that of his mother. 

He was pointing out to Shorty, as they munched, 
the likenesses and unlikenesses of this spring-house 
to that on the Wabash, when they were startled by 
the stern command: 

‘‘Surrender, there, you infernal Yankees !” 

They looked up with startled eyes to stare into a 
dozen muskets leveled straight at their heads from 
the willow thickets. Corn-dodgers and milk-gourds 
dropped into the water as they impulsively jumped 
to their feet. 

“If yo’uns move we’uns ’ll blow the lights outen 
yo’uns,” shouted the leader of the rebels. “Hold 
up yer hands.” 

It was a moment of the most intense anguish that 
either of them had ever known. Their thoughts 
were lightninglike in rapidity. The rebel muzzles 
were not a rod away, their aim was true, and it 


102 


SI KLEGG. 


would be madness to risk their fire, for it meant 
certain death. 

The slightest move toward resistance was suicide. 

Si gave a deep groan, and up went his hands at 
the same moment with Shorty’s. 

The rebels rushed out of the clump of willows 
behind which they had crept up on the boys, and 
surrounded them. Two snatched up their guns, and 
the others began pulling off their haversacks and 
other personal property as their own shares of the 
booty. In the midst of this. Si looked around, and 
saw the woman standing near calmly knitting. 

“You ain’t so af eared o’ rheumatism all at once,” 
he said bitterly. 

“My rheumatiz has spells, young man, same ez 
other people’s,” she answered, pulling one of the 
needles out, and counting the stitches with it. 
“Sometimes it is better, and sometimes it is wuss. 
Jest now it is a great deal better, thankee. I only 
wisht I could toll the whole Yankee army to destruc- 
tion ez easy ez you wuz. My, but ye walked right 
in, like the fiy to the spider. I never had nothin’ 
do my rheumatiz so much good.” 

And she cackled with delight. 

“When you git through,” she continued, addressing 
the leader of the rebels,” come up to the house, and 
I’ll have some dinner cooked for ye. I know ye’re 
powerful tired an’ hungry. I s’pose nothin’ need be 
cooked for them,” and she pointed her knitting- 
needle comtemptuously at Si and Shorty. “Ole 
Satan ’ll be purvidin’ fur them. I’ll take these along 
to cook fur ye.” 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


103 


She gathered up the dead chickens and stalked 
back to the house. 

“Ef we're gwine t’ shoot they'uns le’s take they- 
'uns over thar on the knoll, whar they'uns won’t 
spile nothin’,” said one evil-looking man, who had 
just ransacked Si’s pockets and appropriated every- 
thing in them. '‘Hit’d be too bad t’ kill they’uns here 
right in sight q’ the house.” 

‘‘Le’me see them letters, Bushrod,” said the leader, 
snatching a package of letters and Annabel’s picture 
out of the other’s hand. “Mebbe thar’s some news 
in them that the Captain’d like to have.” 

Si gnashed his teeth as he saw the cherished mis- 
sives rudely tom open. and scanned, and especially 
when the ambrotype case was opened and Annabel’s 
features made the subject of coarse comment. The 
imminent prospect of being murdered had a much 
lighter pang. 

While the letters and ambrotype were being looked 
over the process of robbery was going on. One 
had snatched Si’s cap, another had pulled off his 
blouse, and there was a struggle as to who should 
have possession of his new Government shoes, which 
were regarded as a great prize. Si had resisted this 
spoilation, but was caught from behind and held, 
despite his kicks and struggles, while the shoes were 
pulled off. Shorty was treated in the same way. 

• In a few minutes both, exhausted by their vigor- 
ous resistance, were seated on the ground, with noth- 
ing left on them but their pantaloons, while their 
captors were quarreling over the division of their 
personal effects, and as to what disposition was to 
be made of them. In the course of the discussion 


104 


SI KLEGG. 


the boys learned that they had been captured by a 
squad of young men from the immediate neighbor- 
hood, who had been allowed to go home on furlough, 
had been gathered together when the regiment ap- 
peared, and had been watching every movement 
from safe coverts. They had seen Si and Shorty 
leave, and had carefully dogged their steps until 
such moment as they could pounce pn them. 

''Smart as we thought we wuz,” said Si bitterly, 
"we played right into their hands. They tracked 
us down jest as if we’d bin a couple o’ rabbits, and 
ketched us jest when they wanted us.” 

He gave a groan which Shorty echoed. 

Bushrod and two others were for killing the two 
boys then and there and ending the matter. 

"They orter be killed, Ike, right here,” said Bush- 
rod to the leader. "They deserve it, and we’uns 
hain’t got no time to fool. We’uns can’t take they- 
’uns back with we’uns, ef we wanted to, and I for 
one don’t want to. I’d ez soon have a rattlesnake 
around me.” 

But Ike, the leader, was farther-seeing. He repre- 
sented to the others the vengeance the Yankees 
would take on the people of the neighborhood if they 
murdered the soldiers. 

This developed another party, who favored taking 
the prisoners to some distance and killing them 
there, so as to avoid the contingency that Ike had set 
forth. Then there were propositions to deliver them 
over to the guerrilla leaders, to be disposed of as 
they pleased. 

Finally, it occurred to Ike that they were talking 
entirely too freely before the prisoners, unless they 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


105 


intended to kill them outright, for they were giving 
information in regard to the position and operations 
of rebel bands that might prove dangerous. He 
drew his squad off a little distance to continue the 



discussion. At first they kept their eyes on the pris- 
oners and their guns ready to fire, but as they talked 
they lost their watchful attitude in the eagerness of 
making their points. 

Si looked at Shorty, and caught an answering 
gleam. Like a flash both were on their feet and 
started on a mad rush for the fence. Bushrod saw 


106 


SI KLEGG. 


them start, and fired. His bullet cut off a lock of 
Si’s auburn hair. Others fired as fast as they could 
bring their guns up, and the bullets sang viciously 
around, but none touched the fugitives. Their bare 
feet were torn by the briars as they ran, but they 
thought not of these. They plunged into the black- 
berry briars along the fence, climbed it, and gained 
the road some distance ahead of their pursuers, who 
were not impelled by the fear of immediate death 
to spur them on. Up the road went Si and Shorty 
with all the speed that will-power could infuse into 
their legs. Some of the rebels stopped to reload; 
the others ran after. A score of noisy dogs suddenly 
waked up and joined in the pursuit. The old white 
man mounted his horse and came galloping toward 
the house. 

On the boys ran, gaining, if anything, upon the 
foremost of the rebels. The dogs came nearer, but 
before they could do any harm the boys halted for 
an instant and poured such a volley of stones into 
them that they ran back lamed and yelping. The 
fleetest-footed of the rebels, who was the sanguinary 
Bushrod, also came within a stone’s throw, and re- 
ceived a well-aimed bowlder from Si’s muscular hand 
full in his face. This cheered the boys so that they 
ran ahead with increased speed, and finally gained 
the top of the hill from which they had first seen 
the farmhouse. 

They looked back and saw their enemies still after 
them. Ike had taken the old man’s horse and was 
coming on a gallop. They knew he had a revolver, 
and shivered at the thought. But both stooped and 
selected the best stones to throw, to attack him with 


CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK. 


107 


as soon as he came within range. They halted a 
minute to get their breath and nerve for the good 
effort. Ike had reached a steep, difficult part of the 
road, where his horse had to come down to a walk 
and pick his way. 



^‘Now, Si,'' said Shorty, “throw for your life, if 
you never did before. Fm goin^ to git him. You 
take his horse’s head. Aim for that white blaze 
in his forehead. 

Si concentrated his energy into one supreme effort. 


108 


SI KLEGG. 


He could always beat the rest of the boys in throw- 
ing stones, and now his practice was to save him. 
He flung the smooth, round pebble with terrific 
force, and it went true to its mark. The horse 
reared with his rider just at the instant that a bowl- 
der from Shorty’s hand landed on Ike’s breast. The 
rebel fell to the ground, and the boys ran on. 

At the top of the next hill they saw the regiment 
marching leisurely along at the foot of the hill. It 
was so unexpected a deliverance that it startled 
them. It seemed so long since they had left the regi- 
ment that it might have been clear back to Nash- 
ville. They yelled with all their remaining strength, 
and tore down the hill. Co. Q saw them at once, 
and at the command of the Captain came forward 
at the double-quick. The rebels had in the mean- 
while gained the top of the hill. A few shots were 
fired at them as they turned from the chase. 

The Colonel rode back and questioned the boys. 
Then he turned to the Captain of Co. Q and said: 

“Captain, take your company over to that house. 
If you find anything that you think we need in 
camp, bring it back with you. Put these boys in 
the ambulance.” 

The exhausted Si and Shorty were helped into 
the ambulance, the Surgeon gave them a reviving 
drink of whisky and quinine, and as they stretched 
themselves out on the cushioned seats Si remarked: 

“Shorty, we ain’t ez purty ez we used to be, but 
we know a durned sight more.” 

“I doubt it,” said Shorty surlily. “I think me 
and you’ll be fools as long as we live. We won’t be 
fools the same way agin, you kin bet your life^ but 
we'll find some other way, 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST — SI AND SHORTY HAVE AN 
ATTACK OF IT, FOLLOWED BY RECOVERY. 

I T TOOK many days for the boys’ lacerated feet 
to recover sufficiently to permit their going 
about and returning to duty. They spent the 
period of enforced idleness in chewing the cud of 
bitter reflection. The thorns had cut far more pain- 
fully into their pride than into their feet. The time 
was mostly passed in moody silence, very foreign 
to the customary liveliness of the Hoosier’s Rest. 
They only spoke to one another on the most neces- 
sary subjects, and then briefly. In their sour shame 
at the whole thing they even became wroth with 
each other. Shorty sneered at the way Si cleaned 
up the house, and Si condemnel Shorty’s cooking. 
Thenceforth Shorty slept on the floor, while Si oc- 
cupied the bed, and they cooked their meals sepa- 
rately. The newness of the clothes they drew from 
the Quartermaster angered them, and they tried to 
make them look as dirty and shabby as the old. 

Once they were on the point of actually coming to 
blows. 

Si had thoughtlessly flung some dishwater into 
the company street. It was a misdemeanor that in 
ordinary times would have been impossible to him. 
Now almost anything was. 

Shorty instantly growled : 


110 


SI KLEGG. 


“You slouch, you ought to go to the guard-house 
for that/' 

Si retored hotly: 

“Slouch yourself ! Look where you throwed them 
coffee-grounds this morning," and he pointed to the 
tell-tale evidence beside the house. 



SHORTY AND SI ARE AT OUTS. 


“Well, that ain't near so bad," said Shorty crustily. 
“That at least pretended to be tidy." 

“Humph," said Si, with supreme disdainfulness. 
“It's the difference betwixt sneakin' an' straight- 
out. I throwed mine right out in the street. You 
tried to hide yours, and made it all the nastier. But 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST. 


Ill 


whatever you do’s all right. Whatever I do’s all 
wrong. You’re a pill.” 

“Look here, Mister Klegg,” said Shorty, stepping 
forward with doubled fist, “I’ll have you understand 
that I’ve took all the slack and impudence from you 
that I’m a-goin’ to.” 

“Shorty, if you double your fist up at me,” roared 
the irate Si, “I’ll knock your head off in a holy min- 
ute.” 

The boys of Co. Q were thunderstruck. It seemed 
as if their world was toppling when two such part- 
ners should disagree. They gathered around in 
voiceless sorrow and wonderment and watched de- 
velopments. 

Shorty seemed in the act of springing forward, 
when, the sharp roll of the drum at Headquarters 
beating the “assembly” arrested all attention. 
Everyone looked eagerly toward the Colonel’s tent, 
and saw him come out buckling on his sword, while 
his Orderly sped away for his horse. Apparently, 
all the officers had been in consultation with him, for 
they were hurrying away to their several companies. 

“Fall in, Co. Q,” shouted the Orderly-Sergeant. 
“Fall in promptly.” 

Everybody made a rush for his gun and equip- 
ments. 

“Hurry up. Orderly,” said Capt. McGillicuddy, 
coming up with his sword and belt in hand. “Let 
the boys take what rations they can lay their hands 
on, but not stop to cook any. We’ve got to go on 
the jump.” 

All was rush and hurry. Si and Shorty bolted 
for their house, forgetful of their mangled feet. Si 


112 


SI KLEGG. 


got in first, took his gun and cartridge-box down, 
and buckled on his belt. He looked around for his 
rations while Shorty was putting on his things. His 
bread and meat and Shorty’s were separate, and 
there was no trouble about them, ^ut the coffee and 
sugar had not been divided, and were in common re- 
ceptacles. He opened the coffee-can and looked in. 
There did not seem to be more than one ration there. 
He hesitated a brief instant what to do. It would 
serve Shorty just right to take all the coffee. He 
liked his coffee even better than Shorty did, and was 
very strenuous about having it. If he did not take 
it Shorty might think that he was either anxious 
to make up or afraid, and he wanted to demonstrate 
that he was neither. Then there was a twinge that 
it would be mean to take the coffee, and leave his 
partner, senseless and provoking as he seemed, with- 
out any. He set the can down, and, turning as if 
to look for something to empty it in, pretended to 
hear something outside the house to make him for- 
get it, and hurried out. 

Presently Shorty came out, and ostentatiously fell 
into line at a distance from Si. It was the first time 
they had not stood shoulder to shoulder. 

The Orderly-Sergeant looked down the line, and 
called out : 

'‘Here, Corp’l Klegg, you’re not fit to go. Neither 
are you. Shorty. Step out, both of you.” 

“Yes, I’m all right,” said Shorty. “Feet’s got well. 
I kin outwalk a Wea Injun.” 

“Must’ve bin using some Lightning Elixir Lini- 
ment,” said the Orderly-Sergeant incredulously. “I 
saw you both limping around like string-halted 


A PERIOD OP SELP-DISGUST. 


113 


horses not 15 minutes ago. Step out, I tell you.'' 

“Captain, le' me go along," pleaded Si. “You 
never knowed me to fall out, did you?" 

“Captain, I never felt activer in my life," asserted 
Shorty; “and you know I always kept up. I never 
played sore-foot any day." 

“I don't believe either of you're fit to go," said 
Capt. McGillicuddy, “but I won't deny you. You 
may start, anyway. By the time we get to the 
pickets you can fall out if you find you can't keep 
up." 

“The rebel calvary's jumped a herd of beef cattle 
out at pasture, run off the guard, and are trying to 
get away with them," the Orderly-Sergeant hur- 
riedly explained as he lined up Co. Q. “We're to 
make a short cut across the country and try to cut 
them off. . Sir, the company's formed." 

“Attention, Co. Q!" shouted Capt. McGillicuddy. 
“Right face ! — Forward, file left ! — March !" 

The company went off at a terrific pace to get its 
place with the regiment, which had already started 
without it. 

Though every step was a pang. Si and Shorty kept 
up unflinchingly. Each was anxious to outdo the 
other, and to bear off bravery before the company. 
The Captain and Orderly-Sergeant took an occa- 
sional look at them until they passed the picket-line, 
when other more pressing matters engaged the 
officers' attention. 

The stampeded guards, mounted on mules or con- 
demned horses, or running on foot, came tearing 
back, each with a prodigious tale of the numbers 
and ferocity of the rebels. 

5 


114 


si kLECO. 


The regiment was pushed forward with all the 
speed there was in it, going down-hill and over the 
level stretch at a double-quick. Si felt his feet bleed- 
ing, and it seemed at times that he could not go 
another step, but then he would look back down the 
line and catch a glimpse of Shorty keeping abreast 
of his set of fours, and he would spur himself to re- 
newed effort. Shorty would long to throw himself in 
a fence-corner and rest for a week, until, as they 
went over some rise, he would catch sight of Si^s 
sandy hair, well in the lead, when he would drink 
in fresh determination to keep up, if he died in the 
attempt. 

Presently they arrived at the top of the hill from 
which they could see the rebel cavalry rounding up 
and driving off the cattle, while a portion of the 
enemy’s horsemen were engaged in a fight with a 
small squad of infantry ensconced behind a high rail 
fence. 

Si and Shorty absolutely forgot their lameness as 
Co. Q separated from the column and rushed to the 
assistance of the squad, while the rest of the regi- 
ment turned off to the right to cut off the herd. But 
they were lame all the same, and tripped and fell 
over a low fence which the rest of the company easily 
leaped. They gathered themselves up, sat on the 
ground for an instant, and glared at one another. 

“Blamed old tangle-foot,” said Shorty derisively. 

“You’ve -got hoofs like a floundered boss,” retorted 
Si. 

After this interchange of compliments they stag- 
gered painfully to their feet and picked up their 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST. 


115 


guns, which were thrown some distance from their 
hands as they fell. 

By this time Co. Q was a quarter of a mile away, 
and already beginning to fire on the rebels, who 
showed signs of relinquishing the attack. 

‘'Gol darn the luck!'' said Si with Wabash empha- 
sis, beginning to limp forward. 

''Wish the whole outfit was a mile deep in burnin' 
brimstone," wrathfully observed Shorty. 

A couple of lucky shots had emptied two of the 
rebel saddles. The frightened horses turned away 
from the fighting line, and galloped down the road 
to the right of the boys. The leading one suddenly 
halted in a fence-corner about 30 yards away from 
Si, threw up his head and began surveying the 
scene, as if undecided what to do next. The other, 
seeing his mate stop, began circling around. 

Hope leaped up in Si's breast. He began creeping 
toward the first horse, under the covert of the 
sumach. Shorty saw his design and the advantage 
it would give Si, and, standing still, began swearing 
worse than ever. 

Si crept up as cautiously as he had used to in 
the old days when he was rabbit-hunting. The horse 
thrust his head over the fence, and began nibbling 
at a clump of tall rye growing there. Si thrust his 
hand out and caught his bridle. The horse made one 
frightened plunge, but the hand on his bridle held 
with the grip of iron, and he settled down to mute 
obedience. 

Si set his gun down in the fence-corner and 
climbed into the saddle. 

Shorty made the Spring air yellow with profanity 


116 


SI KLEGG. 


until he saw Si ride away from his gun toward the 
other horse. When the latter saw his mate, with a 
rider, coming toward him he gave a whinney and 
dashed forward. In an instant Si had hold of his 
bridle and was turning back. His face was bright 
with triumph. Shorty stopped in the middle of a 
soul-curdling oath and yelled delightedly: 

"‘Bully for old Wabash ! You're my pardner, after 
all. Si." 

He hastened forward to the fence, grabbed up Si's 
gun and handed it to him, and then climbed into 
the other saddle. 

The rebels were now falling back rapidly before 
Co. Q's fire. A small party detached itself and 
started down a side road. 

Si and Shorty gave a yell, and galloped toward 
them, in full sight of Co. Q, who raised a cheer. 
The rebels spurred their horses, but Si and Shorty 
gained on them. 

“Come on. Shorty," Si yelled. “I don't believe 
they've got a shot left. They hain't fired once since 
they started." 

He was right. Their cartridge-boxes had been 
emptied. 

At the bottom of the hill a creek crossing the road 
made a deep, wide quagmire. The rebels were in 
too much hurry to pick out whatever road there 
might have been through it. Their leaders plunged 
in, their horses sank nearly to the knees, and the 
whole party bunched up. 

“Surrender, you rebel galoots," yelled Si, reining 
up at a little distance, and bringing his gun to bear. 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST. 


117 


'‘Surrender, you offscourings of secession,'' added 
Shorty. 

The rebels looked back, held up their hands, and 
said imploringly: 



“Don't shoot. Mister. We'uns give up. We'uns 
air taylored." 

“Come back up here, one by one," commanded Si, 



118 


SI KLEGG. 


‘'and go to our rear. Hold on to your guns. Don’t 
throw ’em away. We ain’t afraid of ’em.” 

One by one the rebels extricated their horses from 
the mire with more or less difficulty and filed back. 
Si kept his gun on those in the quagmire, while 
Shorty attended to the others as they came back. 
Co. Q was coming to his assistance as fast as the 
boys could march. 

What was the delight of the boys to recognize in 
their captives the squad which had captured them. 
The sanguinary Bushrod was the first to come back, 
and Si had to restrain a violent impulse to knock 
him off his horse with his gun-barrel. But he de- 
cided to settle with him when through with the 
present business. 

By the time the rebels were all up, Co. Q had 
arrived on the scene. As the prisoners were being 
disarmed and put under guard. Si called out to Capt. 
McGillicuddy : 

“Captain, one o’ these men is my partickler meat. 
I want to ’tend to him.” 

“All right. Corporal,” responded the Captain, “at- 
tend to him, but don’t be too rough on him. Remem- 
ber that he is an unarmed prisoner.” 

Si and Shorty got down off their horses, and ap- 
proached Bushrod, who turned white as death, trem- 
bled violently, and began to beg. 

“Gentlemen, don’t kill me,” he whined. “I’m a 
poor man, an’ have a fambly to support. I didn’t 
mean nothin’ by what I said. I sw’ar’ t’ Lord 
A’mighty I didn’t.” 

“Jest wanted to hear yourself talk — jest practicin’ 
your voice,” said Shorty sarcastically, as he took the 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST. 


119 


man by the shoulder and pulled him off into the bush 
by the roadside. '‘Jest wanted to sheer us, and see 
how fast we could run. Pleasant little pastime, eh ?” 

“And them things you said about a young lady up 
in Injianny,'' said Si, clutching him by the throat. 



“I want to wring your neck jest like a chicken's. 
What'd you do with her picture and letters?" 

Si thrust his hand unceremoniously into Bushrod’s 
pocket and found the ambrotype of Annabel. A 
brief glance showed him that it was all right, and 
he gave a sigh of satisfaction, which showed some 
amelioration of temper toward the captive. 


120 


SI ICLeCC. 


“What'd you do with them letters?’' Si demanded 
fiercely. 

“Ike has ’em,” said Bushrod. 

“You’ve got my shoes on, you brindle whelp,” 
said Shorty, giving him a cuff in bitter remembrance 
of his own smarting feet. 

“If we’re goin’ to shoot him, let’s do it right off,” 
said Si, looking at the cap on his gun. “The com- 
pany’s gittin’ ready to start back.” 

“All right,” said Shorty, with cheerful alacrity. 
“Johnny, your ticket for a brimstone supper’s made 
out. How’d you rather be shot — standin’ or kneel- 
in’?” 

“0, gentlemen, don’t kill be. Ye hadn’t orter. 
Why do ye pick me out to kill ? I wuzzent no wuss’n 
the others. I wuzzent rayly half ez bad. I didn’t 
rayly mean t’ harm ye. I only talked. I had t’ talk 
that-a-way, for I alluz was a Union .man, and had t’ 
make a show for the others. I don’t want t’ be shot 
at all.” 

“You ain’t answerin’ my question,” said Shorty 
coolly and inexorably. “I asked you how you pre- 
ferred to be shot. These other things you mention 
hain’t nothin’ to do with my question.” 

He leveled his gun at the unhappy man and took 
a deliberate sight. 

“0, for the Lord A’mighty’s sake, don’t shoot me 
down like a dog,” screamed Bushrod. “Le’me have a 
chance to pray, an’ make my peace with my Maker.” 

“All right,” conceded Shorty, “go and kneel down 
there by that cottonwood, and do the fastest prayin’ 
you ever did in all your born days, for you have 
need of it. We’ll shoot when I count three. You’d 


A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUST. 


121 


better make a clean breast of all your sins and trans- 
gressions before you go. You’ll git a cooler place in 
the camp down below.” 

Unseen, the rest of Co. Q were peeping through 
the bushes and enjoying the scene. 

Bushrod knelt down with his face toward the cot- 
tonwood, and began an agonized prayer, mingled 
with confessions of crimes and malefactions, some 
flagrant, some which brought a grin of amusement 
to the faces of Co. Q. 

‘"One!” called out Shorty in stentorian tones. 

''0, for the love o’ God, Mister, don’t shoot me,” 
yelled Bushrod, whirling around, with uplifted arms. 
*Tm too wicked to die, an’ i’ve got a fambly depend- 
in' on me.” 

^^Turn around there, and flnish your prayin’,” 
sternly commanded Shorty, with his and Si’s faces 
down to the stocks of their muskets, in the act of 
taking deliberate aim. 

Bushrod flopped around, threw increased vehe- 
mence into his prayer, and resumed his recital of his 
misdeeds. 

''Two !” counted Shorty. 

Again Bushrod whirled around with uplifted 
hands and begged for mercy. 

"Nary mercy,” said Shorty. "You wouldn’t give 
it to us, and you hain’t given it to many others, ac- 
cording to your own account. Your light’s flickerin’, 
and we’ll blow it out at the next count. Turn 
around, there.” 

Bushrod made the woods ring this time with his 
fervent, tearful appeals to the Throne of Grace. He 
was so wrought up by his impending death that he 


122 


SI KLEGG. 


did not hear Co. Q quietly move away, at a sign from 
the Captain, with Si and Shorty mounting their 
horses and riding off noiselessly over the sod. 

For long minutes Bushrod continued his impas- 
sioned appeals at the top of his voice, expecting 
every instant to have the Yankee bullets crash 
through his brain. At length he had to stop from 
lack of breath. Everything was very quiet — deathly 
so, it seemed to him. He stole a furtive glance 
around. No Yankees could be seen out of the tail 
of his eye on either side. Then he looked squarely 
around. None was visible anywhere. He jumped 
up, began cursing savagely, ran into the road, and 
started for home. He had gone but a few steps 
when he came squarely in front of the musket of 
the Orderly-Sergeant of Co. Q, who had placed him- 
self in concealment to see the end of the play and 
bring him along. 

“Halt, there,” commanded the Orderly-Sergeant; 
“face the other way and trot. We must catch up 
with the company.” 

Si and Shorty felt that they had redeemed them- 
selves, and returned to camp in such good humor 
with each other, and everybody else, that they forgot 
that their feet were almost as bad as ever. 

They went into the house and began cooking their 
supper together again. Shorty picked up the coffee- 
can and said : 

“Si Klegg, you’re a gentleman all through, if you 
was born on the Wabash. A genuine gentleman is 
knowed by his never bein’ no hog under no circum- 
stances. I watched you when you looked into this 
coffee-can, and mad as I was at you, I said you was a 
thorobred when you left it all to me,” 


CHAPTER IX. 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER — BECOMES ENTANGLED IN A 
HIGHLY IMPORTANT CORRESPONDENCE. 

A light spring wagon, inscribed “United 
States Sanitary Commission,^' drove through 
the camp of the 200th Ind., under the charge 
of a dignified man with a clerical cast of countenance, 
who walked alongside, looking at the soldiers and 
into the tents, and stopping from time to time to 
hand a can of condensed milk to this one, a jar of 
jam to another, and bunches of tracts to whomsoever 
would take them. 

Shorty was sitting in front of the house bathing 
his aching feet. The man stopped before him, and 
looked compassionately at his swollen pedals. 

“Your feet are in a very bad way, my man," he 
said sadly. 

“Yes, durn ’em," said Shorty impatiently. “I don’t 
seem to git ’em well nohow. Must’ve got ’em pizened 
when I was runnin’ through the briars." 

“Probably some ivy or poison-oak, or nightshade 
among the briars. Poison-oak is very bad, and night- 
shade is deadly. I knew a man once that had to have 
his hand amputated on account of getting poisoned 
by something that scratched him — nightshade, ivy, 
or poison-oak. I’m afraid your feet are beginning 
to mortify." 

“Well, you are a Job’s comforter," thought Shorty. 


124 


SI KLEGG. 


''You'd be nice to send for when a man's sick. You'd 
scare him to death, even if there was no danger o' 
his dyin'." 

"My friend," said the man, turning to his wagon, 
"I've here a nice pair of home-made socks, which I 
will give you, and which will come in nicely if you 
save your legs. If you don't, give them to some 
needy man. Here are also some valuable tracts, full 
of religious consolation and advice, which it will do 
your soul good to peruse and study." 

Shorty took the gift thankfully, and turned over 
the tracts with curiosity. 

"On the Sin of Idolatry," he read the title of the 
first. 

"Now, why’d he give that? What graven image 
have I bin worshipin' ? What gods of wood and stone 
have I bin bowin' down before in my blindness? 
There've bin times when I thought a good deal more 
of a Commissary tent then I did of a church, but I 
got cured of that as soon as I got a square meal. I 
don't see where I have bin guilty of idolatry. 

"On the Folly of Self-Pride," he read from the 
next one. "Humph, there may be something in that 
that I oughter read. I am very liable to git stuck on 
myself, and think how purty I am, and how graceful, 
and how sweetly I talk, and what fine cloze I wear. 
Especially the cloze. I'll put that tract in my pocket 
an' read it after awhile." 

"On the Evils of Gluttony," he next read. "Well, 
that's a timely tract, for a fact. I'm in the habit o' 
goin' around stuffin' myself, as this says, with deli- 
cate viands, and drinkin' fine wines — 'makin' my 
belly a god.' The man what wrote this must've bin 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


125 


intimately acquainted with the sumptuous menoo 
which Uncle Sam sets before his nephews. He 
mustVe knowed all about the delicate, apetizin' flavor 
of a slab o' fat pork four inches thick, taken off the 
side of the hog that’s uppermost when he’s laying on 
his back. And how I gormandize on hardtack baked 
in the first place for the Revolutioners, and kept over 
ever since. That feller knows jest what he’s writin’ 
about. I’d like to exchange photographs with him.” 

“Thou Shalt Not Swear.” Shorty read a few 
words, got red in the face, whistled softly, crumpled 
the tract up, and threw it away. 

“On the Sin of Dancing.” Shorty yelled with 
laughter. “Me dance with these hoofs! And he 
thinks likely mortification’ll set in, and I’ll lose ’em 
altogether. Well, he oughter be harnessed up with 
Thompson’s colt. Which’d come out ahead in the 
race for the fool medal? But these seem to be nice 
socks. Fine yarn, well-knit, and by stretching a lit- 
tle I think I kin get ’em on. I declare, they’re beau- 
ties. I’ll jest make Si sick with envy when I show 
’em to him. I do believe they lay over anything his 
mother ever sent him. Hello, what’s this?” 

He extracted from one of them a note in a small, 
white envelope, on one end of which was a blue 
Zouave, with red face, hands, cap and gaiters, brand- 
ishing a red sword in defense of a Star Spangled 
Banner which he held in his left hand. 

“Must belong to the Army o’ the Potomac,” mused 
Shorty, studying the picture. “They wear all sorts o’ 
outlandish uniforms there. That red-headed wood- 
pecker’d be shot before he’d git a mile o’ the rebels 
out here. All that hollyhock business’d jest be meat 


126 


SI KLEGG. 


for their sharpshooters. And what's he doin' with 
that 'ere sword? I wouldn't give that Springfield 
rifle o' mine for all the swords that were ever ham- 
mered out. When I reach for a feller 600 or even 
800 yards away I kin fetch him every time. He's my 
meat unless he jumps behind a tree. But as for 
swords, I never could see no sense in 'em except for 
officers to put on lugs with. I wouldn't pack one a 
mile for a wagonload of 'em." 

He looked at the address on the envelope. Straight 
lines had been scratched across with a pin. On these 
was written, in a cramped, mincing hand : 

'To the brave soljer who Gits these Socks." 

“Humph," mused Shorty, “that's probably for me. 
I've got the socks, and I'm a soldier. As to whether 
I'm brave or not's a matter of opinion. Sometimes I 
think I am; agin, when there's a dozen rebel guns 
pinted at my head, not 10 feet away, I think I'm not. 
But we’ll play that I'm brave enough to have this in- 
tended for me, and I’ll open it.” 

On the sheet of paper inside was another valorous 
red-and-blue Zouave defending the flag with drawn 
sword. On it was written ; 

“Bad Ax, Wisconsin, 
“Janooary the 14th, 1863. 

“Braiv Soljer: I doant know who you air, or 
whair you may bee ; I only know that you air serving 
your country, and that is enuf to entitle to the grati- 
tude and affection of every man and woman who has 
the breath of patriotism in their bodies. 

“I am anxious to do something all the time, very 
little though it may be, to help in some way the men 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


127 


who air filing the awful battles for me, and for every 
man and woman in the country. 

'‘I send these socks now as my latest contribution. 
They aint much, but Tve put my best work on them, 
and I hoap they will be useful and comfortable to 
some good, braiv man. 

^'How good you may be I doant know, but you air 
sertmgly a much better man than you would be if 
you was not filing for the Union. I hoap you air a 
regler, consistent Christian. Ide prefer you to be a 
Methodist Episcopal, but any church is much better 
than none. 

“He be glad to heer that you have received these 
things all rite. 

“Sincerely your friend and well-wisher, 

“Jerusha Ellen Briggs.'^ 

Although Shorty was little inclined to any form 
of reading, and disliked handwriting about as much 
as he did work on the fortifications, he read the letter 
over several times, until he had every word in it and 
every feature of the labored, cramped penmanship 
thoroughly imprinted on his mind. Then he held it 
off at arm's length for some time, and studied it with 
growing admiration. It seemed to him the most 
wonderful epistle that ever emanated from any 
human hand. A faint scent of roses came from it 
to help the fascination. 

“I’ll jest bet my head agin a big red apple,” he 
soliloquized, “the woman that writ that’s the purtiest 
girl in the State o’ Wisconsin. I’ll bet there’s nothin’ 
in Injianny to hold a candle to her, purty as Si thinks 
his Annabel is. And smart — my! Jest look at that 
letter. That tells it. Every word spelled correckly, 


128 


SI KLEGG. 


and the grammar away up in G. Annabel’s a mighty 
nice girl, and purty, too, but I’ve noticed she makes 
mistakes in spelling, and her grammar’s the Wabash 
kind — home-made.” 

He drew down his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and 
assumed a severely critical look for a reperusal of 
the letter and judgment upon it according to the 
highest literary standards. 

“No, sir,” he said, with an air of satisfaction, “not 
a blamed mistake in it, from beginnin’ to end. Every 
word spelled jest right, the grammar straight as the 
Ten Commandments, every t crossed and i dotted 
accordin’ to regulashuns and the Constitushun of the 
United States. She must be a school-teacher, and 
yit a school-teacher couldn’t knit sich socks as them. 
She’s a lady, every inch of her. Religious, too. Be- 
longs to the Methodist Church. Si’s father’s a Bap- 
tist, and so’s my folks, but I always did think a heap 
o’ the Methodists. I think they have a little nicer 
girls than the Baptists. I think I’d like to marry a 
Methodist wife.” 

Then he blushed vividly, all to himself, to think 
how fast his thoughts had traveled. He returned to 
the letter, to cover his confusion. 

“Bad Ax, Wis. What a queer name for a place. 
Never heard of it before. Wonder where in time it 
is? I’d like awfully to know. There’s the 1st and 
21st Wis. in Rousseau’s Division, and the 10th Wis. 
Battery in Palmer’s Division. I might go over there 
and ask some o’ them. Mebbe some of ’em are right 
from there. I’ll bet it’s a mighty nice place.” 

He turned to the signature with increased interest. 

“Jerusha Ellen Briggs. Why, the name itself is 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


129 


reg’lar poetry. Jerusha is awful purty. Your Mol- 
lies and Sallies and Emmies can’t hold a candle to it. 
And Annabel — pshaw ! Ellen — why that’s my moth- 
er’s name. Briggs? I knowed some Briggses once 
— way-up, awfully nice people. Seems to me they 
wuz Presbyterians, though, and I always thought 
that Presbyterians wuz stuck-up, but they wuzzent 
stuck-up a mite. I wonder if Miss Jerusha Ellen 
Briggs — she must be a Miss — haint some beau ? But 
she can’t have. If he wuzzent in the army she 
wouldn’t have him ; and if he was in the army she’d 
be sending the socks to him, instead of to whom it 
may concern.” 

This brilliant bit of logic disposed of a sudden fear 
which had been clutching at his heart. It tickled him 
so much that he jumped up, slapped his breast, and 
grinned delightedly and triumphantly at the whole 
landscape. 

''What’s pleasin’ you so mightily. Shorty?” asked 
Si, who had just come up. "Got a new system for 
beatin’ chuck-a-luck, or bin promoted?” 

"No, nothin’ ! Nothin’s happened,” said Shorty 
curtly, as he hastily shoved the letter into his blouse 
pocket. "Will you watch them beans bilin’ while I 
go down to the spring and git some water?” 

He picked up the camp-kettle and started. He 
wanted to be utterly alone, even from Si, with his 
new-born thought. He did not go directly to the 
spring, but took another way to a clump of pawpaw 
bushes, which would hide him from the observation 
of everyone. There he sat down, pulled out the letter 
again, and read it over carefully, word by word. 

"Wants me to write whether I got the socks,” he 


130 


SI KLEGG. 


mused. You jest bet I will. IVe a great mind to ask 
for a furlough to go up to Wisconsin, and find out 
Bad Ax. I wonder how fur it is. I’ll go over to the 
Suiter’s and git some paper and envelopes, and write 
to her this very afternoon.” 

He carried his camp-kettle back to the house, set it 
down, and making some excuse, set off for the Sut- 
ler’s shop. 

“Le’me see your best paper and envelopes,” he 
said to the pirate who had license to fleece the vol- 
unteers. 

“Awfully common trash,” said Shorty, looking 
over the assortment disdainfully, for he wanted 
something superlatively fine for his letter. “Why 
don’t you git something fit for a gentleman to write 
to a lady on? Something with gold edges on the 
paper and envelopes, and perfumed? I never write 
to a lady except on gilt-edged paper, smellin’ o’ ber- 
gamot, and musk, and citronella, and them things. I 
don’t think it’s good taste.” 

“Well, think what you please,” said the Sutler. 
“That’s all the kind I have, and that’s all the kind 
you’ll git. Take it or leave it.” 

Shorty finally selected a quire of heavy letter paper 
and a bunch of envelopes, both emblazoned with pat- 
riotic and warlike designs in brilliant red and blue. 

“Better take enough,” he said to himself. “I’ve 
been handlin’ a pick and shovel and gun so much that 
I’m afeared my hand isn’t as light as it used to be, 
and I’ll have to spile several sheets before I git it 
jest right.” 

On his way back he decided to go by the camp of 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


131 


one of the Wisconsin regiments and learn what he 
could of Bad Ax and its people. 

“Is there a town in your State called Bad Ax T' he 
asked of the first man he met with “Wis.’’ on his cap. 

“Cert’/' was the answer. “And another one called 
Milwaukee, one called Madison, and another called 
Green Bay. Are you studying primary geography, 
of just getting up a postoffice directory?” 

“Don’t be funny, Skeezics,” said Shorty severely. 
“Know anything about it? Mighty nice place, ain’t 
it?” 

“Know anything about it? I should say so. My 
folks live in Bad Ax County. It’s the toughest, orn- 
erist little hole in the State. Run by lead-miners. 
More whisky-shanties than dwellings. It’s tough, I 
tell you.” 

“I believe you’re an infernal liar,” said Shorty, 
turning away in wrath. 

Not being fit for duty, he could devote all his time 
to the composition of the letter. He was so wrought 
up over it that he could not eat much dinner, which 
alarmed Si. 

“What’s the matter with your appetite. Shorty?” 
he asked. “Haint bin eatin’ nothin’ that disagreed 
with you, have you ? 

“Naw,” answered Shorty impatiently; “nothin’ 
wuss’n army rations. They always disagree with me 
when I’m layin’ around doin’ nothin’. Why, in the 
name of goodness, don’t the army move? I’ve got 
sick o’ the sight o’ every cedar and rocky knob in 
Middle Tennessee. We ought to go down and take a 
look at things around Tullahoma, where Mr. Bragg 
is.” 


132 


SI KLEGG. 


It was Si's turn to clean up after dinner, and, 
making an excuse of going over into another camp 
to see a man who had arrived there. Shorty, with his 
paper and envelopes concealed under his blouse, and 
Si's pen and wooden ink-stand fultively conveyed to 
his pocket, picked up the checkerboard when Si's 
back was turned, and made his way to the pawpaw 
thicket, where he could be unseen and unmolested* in 
the greatest literary undertaking of his life. 

He took a comfortable seat on a rock, spread the 
paper on the checkerboard, and then began vigor- 
ously chewing the end of the penholder to stimulate 
his thoughts. 

It had been easy to form the determination to 
write ; the desire to do so was irresistible, but never 
before had he been confronted with a task which 
seemed so overwhelming. Compared with it, strug- 
gling with a mule-train all day through the mud and 
rain, working with pick and shovel on the fortifica- 
tions, charging an enemy's solid line-of-battle, ap- 
peared light and easy performances. He would have 
gone at either, on the instant, at the word of com- 
mand, or without waiting for it, with entire con- 
fidence in his ability to master the situation. But to 
write a half-dozen lines to a strange girl, whom he 
had already enthroned as a lovely divinity, had more 
terrors than all of Bragg's army could induce. 

But when Shorty set that somewhat thick head of 
his upon the doing of a thing, the thing was tolera- 
bly certain to be done in some shape or another. 

“I believe, if I knowed where Bad Ax was, I'd git 
a furlough, and walk clean there, rather than write 
a line," he said, as he wiped from his brow the sweat 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


133 


forced out by the labor of his mind. '1 always did 
hate writin\ I'd rather maul rails out of a twisted 
elm log any day than fill up a copy book. But it's got 
to be done, and the sooner I do it the sooner the 
agony'll be over. Here goes." 

He began laboriously forming each letter with his 
lips, and still more laboriously with his stiff fingers, 
adding one to another, until he had traced out : 

‘‘Headquarters Co. Q, 200th Injianny Volunteer 
Infantry, Murfreesboro, Aprile the 16th eighteen 
hundred & sixty three." 

The sweat stood out in beads upon his forehead 
after this effort, but it was as nothing compared to 
the strain of deciding how he should address his cor- 
respondent. He wanted to use some term of fervent 
admiration, but fear deterred him. He debated the 
question with himself until his head fairly ached, 
when he settled upon the inoffensive phrase : 

“Respected Lady." 

The effort was so exhausting that he had to go 
down to the spring, take a deep drink of cold water, 
and bathe his forehead. But his determination was 
unabated, and before the sun went down he had pro- 
duced the following : 

“i taik mi pen in hand 2 inform U that ive reseeved 
the sox U so kindly cent, &*i thank U 1,000 times 4 
them. They are boss sox & no mistake. They are 
the bossest sox that ever wuz nit. The man is a lire 
who sez they aint. He dassent tel Me so. U are a 
boss nitter. Even Misses Linkun can't hold a can- 
dle 2 U. 

“The sox fit me 2 a t, but that is becaws they are 
nit so wel, & stretch." 


134 


SI KLEGG. 


“I wish I knowed some more real strong words to 
praise her knitting/' said Shorty, reading over the 
laboriously-written lines. “But after I have said 
they're boss what more is there to say? I spose I 
ought to say something about her health next. 
That's polite." And he wrote : 

“ime in fair helth, except my feet are locoed, & i 
weigh 156 pounds, & hope U are in joying the saim 
blessing." 

“I expect I ought to praise her socks a little more," 
said he, and wrote : 

“The sox are jest boss. They outrank anything in 
the Army of the Cumberland." 

After this effort he was compelled to take a long 
rest. Then he communed with himself : 

“When a man's writin' to a lady, and especially an 
educated lady, he should always throw in a little 
poetry. It touches her." 

There was another period of intense thought, and 
then he wrote : 

“Dan Elliott is my name, 

& single is my station, 

Injianny is mi dwelling place, 

& Christ is mi salvation." 

“Now," he said triumphantly, “that's neat and 
effective. It tells her' a whole lot about me, and 
makes her think I know Shakspere by heart. Won- 
der if I can't think o' some more? Hum — hum. 
Yes, here goes: 

“The rose is red, the vilet's blue ; 
ime 4 the Union, so are U." 

Shorty was so tickled over this happy conceit that 
he fairly hugged himself, and had to read it over 


SHORTY GETS A LETTER. 


135 


several times to admire its beauty. But it left him 
too exhausted for any further mental labor than to 
close up with: 

''No moar at present, from yours til death. 

"Dan Elliott, 

"Co. Q, 200th injianny Volunteer Infantry.” 

He folded up the missive, put it into an envelope, 
carefully directed to Miss Jerusha Ellen Briggs, Bad 
Ax, Wis., and after depositing it in the box at the 
Chaplain^s tent, plodded homeward, feeling more 
tired than after a day’s digging on the fortifications. 
Yet his fatigue was illuminated by the shimmering 
light of a fascinating hope. 


CHAPTER X. 


TRADING WITH THE REBS — THE BOYS HAVE SOME 
FRIENDLY COMMERCE WITH THE REBEL PICKETS, 

T he 200th Ind. Volunteer Infantry had been 
pushed out to watch the crossings of Duck 
River and the movements of the rebels on 
the south bank of that narrow stream. The rebels, 
who had fallen into the incurable habit of objecting 
to everything that the ‘"Yankees’" did, seemed to have 
especial and vindictive repugnance to being watched. 

Probably no man, except he be an actor or a poli- 
tician, likes to be watched, but few ever showed 
themselves as spitefully resentful of observation as 
the rebels. 

Co. Q was advanced to picket the north bank of 
the river, but the moment it reached the top of the 
hill overlooking the stream it had to deploy as skir- 
mishers, and Enfield bullets began to sing viciously 
about its ears. 

“Looks as if them fellers think we want to steal 
their old river and send it North,” said Shorty, as 
he reloaded his gun after firing at a puff of smoke 
that had come out of the sumach bushes along- the 
fence at the foot of the hill. “They needn’t be so 
grouchy. We don’t want their river — only to use it 
awhile. They kin have it back agin after we’re 
through with it.” 

“Blamed if that feller didn’t make a good line 


trading with the rebs. 


137 


shot,” said Si, glancing up just above his head to 
where a twig had been clipped off the persimmon 
tree behind which he was standing. '‘He put up 
his sights a little too fur, or he’d ’a’ got me.” 

Si took careful aim at where he supposed the lurk- 
ing marksman to be and fired. 

There was a waving of the tops of the bushes, as 
if the men concealed there had rushed out. 

“Guess we both landed mighty close,” said Shorty 
triumphantly. “They seem to have lost interest in 
this piece o’ sidehill, anyway.” 

He and Si made a rush down the hill, and gained 
the covert of the fence just in time to see the rails 
splintered by a bunch of shots striking them. 

“Lay down, Yanks!” called out Shorty cheerily, 
dropping into the weeds. “Grab a root!” 

To the right of them they could see the rest of Co. 
Q going through similar performances. 

Si and Shorty pushed the weeds aside, crawled 
cautiously to the fence, and looked through. There 
was a road on the other side of the fence, and be- 
yond it a grove of large beech trees extending to 
the bank of the river. Half concealed by the trunk 
of one of these stood a tall, rather good-looking 
young man, with his gun raised and intently peering 
into the bushes. He had seen the tops stir, and 
knew that his enemies had gained their cover. He 
seemed expecting that they would climb the fence 
and jump down into the road. At a little distance 
to his right could be seen other men on the sharp 
lookout. 

Shorty put his hand on Si to caution and repress 
liim. 


138 


SI KLEGG. 


With his eyes fixed on the rebel, Shorty drew his 
gun toward him. The hammer caught on a trailing 
vine, and, forgetting himself, he gave it an impatient 
jerk. It went off, the bullet whistling past Shorty's 
head and the powder burning his face. 

The rebel instantly fired in return, and cut the 
leaves about four feet above Shorty. 

“Purty good shot that, Johnny," called out Shorty 
as he reloaded his gun; “but too low. It went 
between my legs. You hain’t no idee how tall I am." 

“If I couldn't shoot no better'n you kin on a 
sneak," answered the rebel, his rammer ringing in 
his gun-barrel, “I wouldn't handle firearms. Your 
bullet went a mile over my head. Must've bin shoot- 
in' at an angel. But you Yanks can't shoot nary 
bit — ^you're too skeered." 

“I made you hump out o' the bushes a few min- 
utes ago," replied Shorty, putting on a cap. “Who 
was skeered then? You struck for tall timber like 
a cotton-tailed rabbit." 

“I'll rabbit ye, ye nigger-lovin' whelp," shouted 
the rebel. “Take that," and he fired as close as he 
could to the sound of Shorty's voice. 

Shorty had tried to anticipate his motion and 
fired first, but the limbs bothered his aim, and his 
bullet went a foot to the right of the rebel's head. 
It was close enough, however, to make the rebel 
cover himself carefully with the tree. 

“That was a much better shot, Yank," he called 
out. “But ye orter do a powerful sight better'n that 
on a sneak. Ye'd never kill no deer, nor rebels 
nuther, with that kind o' shootin'. You Yanks are 


TRADING WITH THE REBS. 


139 


great on the sneak, but that’s all the good it does, yet 
ye can’t shoot fer a handful o’ huckleberries.” 

"‘Sneaks! Can’t shoot!” roared Shorty. “I kin 
outshoot you or any other man in Jeff Davis’s king- 
dom. I dare you to come out from behind your tree. 



and take a shot with me in the open, accordin’ to 
Hardee’s tactics. Your gun’s empty ; so’s mine. My 
chum here’ll see fair play; and you kin bring your 
chum with you. Come out, you skulkin’ brindle pup, 
and shoot man fashion, if you dare.” 


140 


SI KLEGG. 


“Ye can't dare me, ye nigger-stealin’ blue-belly," 
shouted the rebel in return, coming out from behind 
his tree. Shorty climbed over the fence and stood 
at the edge of the road, ’with his gun at order arms. 
Si came out on Shorty's left, and a rebel appeared 
to the right of the first. For a minute all stood in 
expectancy. Then Shorty spoke: 

“I want nuthin' but what's fair. Your gun's 
empty; so's mine. You probably know Hardee's 
tactics as well as I do." 

“I'm up in Hardee," said the rebel with a firm 
voice. 

“Well, then," continued Shorty, “let my chum here 
^all off the orders for loadin' and firin', and we'll 
^oth go through 'em, and shoot at the word." 

“Go ahead — I'm agreed," said the rebel briefly. 

Shorty nodded to Si. 

“Carry arms," commanded Si. 

Both brought their guns up to their right sides. 

“Present arms." 

Both courteously saluted. 

“Load in nine times — Load," ordered Si. 

Both guns came down at the same instant, each 
man grasped his muzzle with his left hand, and 
reached for his cartridge-box, awaiting the next 
order. 

“Handle cartridges." * 

“Tear cartridges." 

“Charge cartridges," repeated Si slowly and dis- 
tinctly. The rebel's second nodded approval of his 
knowledge of the drill, and sang out : 

“Good soldiers, all of yo'uns." 

“Draw rammer," continued Si. 


TRADING WITH THE REBS. 


141 


'Turn rammer.” 

"Ram cartridge.” 

Shorty punctiliously executed the three blows on 
the cartridge exacted by the regulations, and paused 
a breath for the next word. The rebel had sent 
his cartridge home with one strong thrust, but he 
saw his opponent's act and waited. 

"Return rammer,” commanded Si. He was get- 
ting a little nervous, but Shorty deliberately with- 
drew his rammer, turned it, placed one end in the 
thimbles, deliberately covered the head with his lit- 
tle finger, exactly as the tactics prescribed, and sent 
it home with a single movement. The rebel had a 
little trouble in returning rammer, and Shorty and 
Si waited. 

"Cast about,” 

"Prime !” 

Both men capped at the same instant. 

"Ready!” 

Shorty cocked his piece and glanced at the rebel, 
whose gun was at his side. 

"Aim!” 

Both guns came up like a fiash. 

Si's heart began thumping at a terrible rate. He 
was far more alarmed about Shorty than he had 
ever been about himself. Up to this moment he had 
hoped that Shorty's coolness and deliberation would 
"rattle” the rebel and make him fire wildly. But 
the latter, as Si expressed it afterward, "seemed 
to be made of mighty good stuff,” and it looked as if 
both would be shot down. 

"Fire!” shouted Si, with a perceptible tremor in 
his voice. 


142 


SI KLEGG. 


Both guns flashed at the same instant. Si saw 
Shorty’s hat fly off, and him stagger and fall, while 
the rebel dropped his gun, and clapped his hand 
to his side. Si ran toward Shorty, who instantly 
sprang up again, rubbing his head, from which came 
a faint trickle of blood. 

“He aimed at my head, and jest scraped my 
scalp,” he said. “ Where’d I hit him ? I aimed at his 
heart, and had a good bead.” 

“You seem to have struck him in the side,” an- 
swered Si, looking at the rebel. “But not badly, 
for he’s still standin’ up. Mebbe you broke a rib. 
though.” 

“Couldn’t, if he’s still up. I must file my trigger 
Gun pulls too hard. I had a dead aim on his heart, 
but I seem to’ve pulled too much to the right.” 

“Say, I’ll take a turn with you,” said Si, picking 
up his gun and motioning with his left hand at the 
other rebel. 

“All right,” answered the other promptly. “My 
gun ain’t loaded, though.” 

“I’ll wait for you,” said Si, looking at the cap on 
his gun. A loud cheer was heard from far to the 
right, and Co. Q was seen coming forward on a 
rush, with the rebels in front running back to the 
river bank. Several were seen to be overtaken and 
forced to surrender. 

The two rebels in front of the boys gave a startled 
look at their comrades, then at the boys, and turned 
to run. Si raised his gun to order them to halt. 

“No,” said Shorty. “Let ’em go. It was a fair 
bargain, and I’ll stick to it. Skip out, Johnnies, for 
every cent you’re worth.” 


t^ADING WITH THE REBS. 


143 


The rebels did not wait for the conclusion of the 
sentence, but followed their comrades with alacrity. 

The boys ran forward through the woods to the 
edge of the bank, and saw their opponents climb- 
ing up the opposite bank and getting behind the shel- 
tering trees. Si waited till his particular one got 
good shelter behind a large sycamore, and then sent 
a bullet that cut closely above his head. 

This was the signal for a general and spiteful 
fusilade from both sides of the river and all along 
the line. The rebels banged away as if in red-hot 
wrath at being run across the stream, and Co. Q 
retorted with such earnestness that another com- 
pany was sent forward to its assistance, but re- 
turned when the Irish Lieutenant, who had gone 
forward to investigate, reported c 

'‘Faith, its loike the divil shearing a hog — all cry 
and no wool at all.” 

So it was. Both sides found complete shelter be- 
hind the giant trunks of the trees, and each fired 
at insignificant portions of the anatomy allowed to 
momentarily protrude beyond the impenetrable 
boles. 

After this had gone on for about half an hour 
those across the river from Si and Shorty called 
out: 

“Say, Yanks, ye can't shoot down a beech tree 
with a Springfield musket, nohow ye kin do it. If 
we'uns hain’t killin' more o' yo'uns than yo'uns is 
a-killin' o' we'uns, we'uns air both wastin' a power- 
ful lot o' powder an' lead and good shootin'. What 
d' yo'uns say to King's excuse for awhile?'' 

“We're agreed,'' said Si promptly, stepping from 


144 


SI KLEGG. 


behind the tree, and leaving his gun standing against 
it. 

'‘Hit's a go," responded the rebels, coming out dis- 
armed. “We'uns won’t shoot no more till ordered, 
an’ then’ll give yo’uns warnin’ fust.’’ 



“All right; we’ll give you warning before we 
shoot,’’ coincided Si. 

“Say, have. yo’uns got any Yankee coffee that 



tjfeAbiNG WITH THE REBS. 


Ut 

you’ll trade for a good plug o’ terbacker?” inquired 
the man whom Si had regarded as his particular 
antagonist. 

‘"Yes,” answered Si. “We’ve got a little. We’ll 
give you a cupful for a long plug with none cut 
off.” 

“What kind of a cupful?” asked the bartering 
“Johnny.” 

“A big, honest cupful. One o’ this kind,” said 
Si, showing his. 

“All right. Hit’s to be strike measure,” said the 
rebel. “Here’s the plug,” and he held up a long plug 
of “natural leaf.” 

“0. K,” responded Si. “Meet me half way.” 

The truce had quickly extended, and the firing 
suspended all along the line of Co. Q. The men came 
out from behind their trees, and sat down on the 
banks in open view of one another. 

Si filled his cup “heaping-full” with coffee, climbed 
down the bank and waded out into the middle of 
the water. The rebel met him there, while his com- 
panion and Shorty stood on the banks above and 
watched the trade. 

“Y’re givin’ me honest measure, Yank,” said the 
rebel, looking at the cup. “Now, if ye hain’t filled 
the bottom o’ yer cup with coffee that’s bin biled 
before. I’ll say y’re all right. Some o’ yo’uns air 
so dod-gasted smart that y’ poke off on we’uns cof- 
fee that’s bin already biled, and swindle we’uns.” 

“Turn it out and see,” said Si. 

The rebel emptied the cup into a little bag, care- 
fully scrutinizing the stream as it ran in. It was all 
fine, fragrant, roasted and ground coffee. 

6 


146 


SI KLEGG. 


“Lord, thar’s enough t’ last me a month with 
keer,^' said the rebel, gazing unctuously at the rich 
brown grains. “I won’t use more’n a spoonful a 
day, an’ bile hit over twice. Yank, here’s yer ter* 
backer. I’ve made a good trade. Here’s a Chat- 
anooga paper I’ll throw in to boot. Got a Northern 
paper about ye anywhar?” 

Si produced a somewhat frayed Cincinnati Ga- 
zette. 

“I can’t read myself,” said the rebel, as he tucked 
the paper away. “Never I’arned to. Pap wuz agin 
hit. Said hit made men lazy. He got erlong with- 
out readin’, and raised the biggest fambly on Pos- 
sum Crick. But thar’s a feller in my mess kin read 
everything but the big words, and I like t’ git a 
paper for him to read to the rest o’ we’uns.” 

“Was your pardner badly hurt by mine’s shot?” 
asked Si. 

“No. The bullet jest scraped the bone. He’ll be 
likely to have a stitch in his side for awhile, but 
he’s a very peart man, and won’t mind that. I’m 
s’prised he didn’t lay your pardner out. He’s the 
best shot in our company.” 

“Well, he was buckin’ agin a mighty good shot, 
and I’m surprised your pardner’s alive. I wouldn’t 
’ve given three cents for him when Shorty drawed 
down on him; but Shorty’s bin off duty for awhile, 
and his gun’s not in the best order. Howsumever, 
I’m awful glad that it come out as it did. His life’s 
worth a dozen rebels.” 

“The blazes you say. I’d have you know, Yank, 
that one Confederit is wuth a whole rijimint o’ Lin- 
coln hirelings. I’ll” 


TRADING WITH THE REBS. 


147 


“0, come off — come off — that’s more o’ your old 
five-to-one gas,” said Si irritatingly. "‘I thought 
we’d walloped that dumbed nonsense out o’ your 
heads long ago. We’ve showed right along that, 


SI WANTS A FIGHT. 



man for man, we’re a sight better’n you. We’ve 
always licked you when we’ve had anything like a 
fair show. At Stone River you had easy two men 
to our one, and yit we got away with you.” 

'' ’Tain’t so. It’s a lie. If hit wuzzent for the 



148 


SI KLEGG. 


Dutch and Irish you hire, you couldn't fight we’uns 
at all." 

'‘Look here, reb," said Si, getting hot around the 
ears, "I’m neither a Dutchman nor an Irishman ; we 
hain’t a half dozen in our company. I’m a better 
man than you’ve got in your regiment. Either me 
or Shorty kin lick any man you put up; Co. Q kin 
lick your company single-handed and easy ; the 200th 
Injianny kin lick any regiment in the rebel army. 
To prove it, I kin lick you right here.’’ 

Si thrust the plug of tobacco into his blouse 
pocket and began rolling up his sleeves. ‘ 

The rebel did not seem at all averse to the trial 
and squared off at him. Then Shorty saw the 
belligerent attitude and yelled: 

"Come, Si. Don’t fight there. That’s no place. 
If you’re goin’ to fight, come up on level bround, 
where it kin be fair and square. Come up here, or 
we’ll go over there.’’ 

"0, come off,’’ shouted the rebel on the othex 
side. "Don’t be a fool. Bill. Fist-foutin’ don’t set- 
tle nothin’. Come back here and git your gun if 
ye want to font. But don’t le’s font no more to-day. 
Thar’s plenty of it for ter-morrer. Le’s keep qu5e/ 
and peaceful now. I want powerfully to take a 
swim. Air you fellers agreed?’’ 

"Yes; yes,’’ shouted Shorty. "You fellers keep to 
your side o’ the river, and we will to ours.’’ 

The agreement was carried into instantaneous 
effect, and soon both sides of the stream were filled 
with laughing, romping, splashing men. 

There was something very exhilarating in thC 
cool, clear, mountain water of the stream. The boys. 


TRADING WITH THE REBS. 


149 


got to wrestling, and Si came off victorious in two 
or three bouts with his comrades. 

“Cock-a-doodle-doo, he shouted, imitating the 
crow of a rooster. “I kin duck any man in the 200th 
Injianny.'' 

The challenge reached the ears of the rebel with 
whom Si had traded. He was not satisfied with the 
result of his conference. 

“You kin crow over your fellers, Yank,'' he 
shouted ; “but you dassent come to the middle an' try 
me two falls outen three." 

Si immediately made toward him. They surveyed 
each other warily for a minute to get the advantages 
of the first clinch, when a yell came from the rebel 
side: 

“Scatter, Confeds! Hunt yer holes, Yanks! The 
Runnel's a-comin'." 

Both sides ran up their respective banks, snatched 
up their guns, took their places behind their trees, 
and opened a noisy but harmless fire. 


CHAPTER XI. 


SHORTY'S CORRESPONDENT — GETS A LETTER FROM BAD 

AX, WIS., AND IS ALMOST OVERCOME WITH JOY. 

• 

S HORTY had always been conspicuously lacking 
in the general interest which his comrades 
had shown in the mails. Probably at some 
time in his life he had had a home like the rest of 
them, but for some reason home now played no part 
in his thoughts. The enlistment and muster-rolls 
stated that he was born in Indiana, but he was a 
stranger in the neighborhood when he enrolled him- 
self in Co. Q. 

His revelations as to his past were confined to 
memories of things which happened “when I was 
cuttin’ wood down the Mississippi," or “when I 
was runnin' on an Ohio sternwheel." 

He wrote no letters and received none. And 
when the joyful cry, “Mail’s come," would send 
everybody else in the regiment on a rufi to the Chap- 
lain’s tent, in eager anticipation, to jostle one an- 
other in impatience, until the contents of the mail- 
pouch were distributed. Shorty would remain indif- 
ferent in his tent, without an instant’s interruption 
in his gun cleaning, mending, or whatever task he 
might have in hand. 

A change came over him after he sent his letter to 
Bad Ax, Wis. The cry, “Mail’s come/’ would make 


SHORTY^S CORRESPONDENT. 


151 


him start, in spite of himself, and before he could 
think to maintain his old indifference. He was 
ashamed, lest he betray his heart’s most secret 
thoughts. 

The matter of the secure transmission of the mails 
between camp and home began to receive his earn- 
est attention. -He feared that the authorities were 
not taking sufficient precautions. The report that 
John Morgan’s guerrillas had captured a train be- 
tween Louisville and Nashville, rifled the mail car, 
and carried off the letters, filled him with burning 
indignation, both against Morgan and his band and 
the Generals who had not long ago exterminated 
that pestiferous crowd. 

He had some severe strictures on the slovenly way 
in which the mail was distributed from the Divi- 
sion and Brigade Headquarters to the regiments. It 
was a matter, he said, which could not be done too 
carefully. It was a great deal more important than 
the distribution of rations. A man would much 
rather lose several days’ rations than a letter from 
home. He could manage in some way to get enough 
to live on, but nothing would replace a lost letter. 

Then, he would have fits of silent musing, some- 
times when alone, sometimes when with Si in the 
company, over the personality of the fair stocking- 
knitter of Wisconsin and the letter he had sent her. 
He would try to recall the exact wording of each sen- 
tence he had laboriously penned, and wonder how 
it impressed her, think how it might have been im- 
proved, and blame himself for not having been more 
outspoken in his desire to hear from her again. He 
would steal off into the brush, pull out the socks 


152 


SI KLEGG. 


and letter, which he kept carefully wrapped up in 
a sheet of the heavy letter paper, and read over 
the letter carefully again, although he knew every 
word of it by heart. These fits alarmed Si. 

“I’m afeared,” he confided to some cronies, “that 
rebel bullet hurt Shorty more’n he’ll let on. He’s 
Uot actin’ like hisself at times. That bullet scraped 
so near his thinkery that it may have addled it. It 
was an awful close shave.” 

“Better talk to the Surgeon,” said they. “Glanc- 
ing bullets sometimes hurt worse’n they seem to.” 

“No, the bullet didn’t hurt Shorty, any more than 
make a scratch,” said the Surgeon cheerfully when 
Si laid the case before him. “I examined him 
carefully. That fellow’s head is so hard that no 
mere scraping is going to affect it. You’d have to 
bore straight through it, and I’d want at least a 
six-pounder to do it with if I was going to undertake 
the job. An Indiana head may not be particularly 
fine, but it is sure to be awfully solid and tough. No ; 
his system’s likely to be out of order. You rapscal- 
lions will take no care of yourselves, in spite of all 
that I can say, but will eat and drink as if you were 
ostriches. He’s probably a little off his feed, and a 
good dose of bluemass followed up with quinine will 
bring him around all right. Here, take these, and 
give them to him.” 

The Surgeon was famous for prescribing blue- 
mass and quinine for every ailment presented to 
him., from sore feet to “shell fever.” Si received 
the medicines with a proper show of thankfulness, 
saluted, and left. As he passed through the clump 
of bushes he was tempted to add them to the col- 


shorty's correspondent. 


153 


lection of little white papers which marked the 
trail from the Surgeon’s tent, but solicitude for his 
comrade restrained him. The Surgeon was probably 
right, and it was Si’s duty to do all that he could 
to bring Shorty around again to his normal condi- 
tion. But how in the world was he going to get his 
partner to take the medicine? Shorty had the reso- 
lute antipathy to drugs common to all healthy men. 

It was so grave a problem that Si sat down on a 
log to think about it. As was Si’s way, the more 
he thought about it, the more determined he be- 
came to do it, and when Si Klegg determined to do 
a thing, that thing was pretty nearly as good as 
•done. 

'T kin git him to take the quinine easy enough,” 
he mused. “All I’ve got to do is to put it in a bot- 
tle o’ whisky, and he’d drink it if there wuz 40 doses 
o’ quinine in it. But the bluemass’s a very different 
thing. He’s got to swaller it in a lump, and what 
in the world kin I put it in that he’ll swaller whole?” 

Si wandered over to the Sutler’s in hopes of see- 
ing something there that would help him. He was 
about despairing when he noticed a boy open a can 
of large, yellow peaches. 

“The very thing,” said Si, slapping his thigh. 
''Say, young man, gi’ me a can o’ peaches jest like 
them.” 

Si took his can and carefully approached his tent, 
that he might decide upon his plan before Shorty 
could see him and his load. He discovered that 
Shorty was sitting at a little distance, with his back 
to him, cleaning his gun, which he had taken apart. 

“Bully,” thought Si. “Just the thing. His hands 


154 


SI KLEGG. 


are dirty and greasy, and he won’t want to tech 
anything to eat.” 

He slipped into the tent, cut open the can, took 
out a large peach with a spoon, laid the pellet of 
bluemass in it, laid another slice of peach upon it, 
and then came around in front of Shorty, holding 
out the spoon. 

''Open your mouth and shut your eyes. Shorty,” 
he said. "I saw some o’ the nicest canned peaches 
down at the Sutler’s, and I suddenly got hungry 
for some. I bought a can and brung ’em up to the 
tent. Jest try ’em.” 

He stuck the spoon out towards Shorty’s mouth. 
The latter, with his gunlock in one hand and a 
greasy rag in the other, looked at the tempting 
morsel, opened his mouth, and the deed was done. 

"Must’ve left a stone in that peach,” he said, as 
he gulped it down. 

"Mebbe so,” said Si, with a guilty flush, and pre- 
tending to examine the others. "But I don’t find 
none in the rest Have another?” 

Shorty swallowed two or three spoonfuls more, 
and then gasped: 

"They’re awful nice. Si, but I’ve got enough. 
Keep the rest for yourself.” 

Si went back to the tent and finished the can 
with mingled emotions of triumph at having suc- 
ceeded, and of contrition at playing a trick on his 
partner. He decided to make amends for the lat- 
ter by giving Shorty an unusually large quantity of 
whisky to take with his quinine. 

Si was generally very rigid in his temperance 
ideas. He strongly disapproved of Shorty’s drink- 


shorty's correspondent. 


155 


ing, and always interposed all the obstacles he could 
in the way of it. But this was an extraordinary 
case — it would be ‘‘using liquor for a medicinal pur- 
pose" — and his conscience was quieted. 

Co. Q had one of those men — to be found in every 
company — who can get whisky under apparently 
any and all circumstances. In every company there 
is always one man who seemingly can find some- 
thing to get drunk on in the midst of the Desert 
of Sahara. To Co. Q's representative of this class 
Si went, and was piloted to where, after solemn as- 
surances against “giving away," he procured a half- 
pint of fairly-good applejack, into which he put his 
doses of quinine. 

In the middle of the night Shorty woke up with a 
yell. 

“Great Cesar’s ghost!" he howled, “what’s the 
matter with me? I’m sicker’n a dog. Must’ve bin 
them* dodgasted peaches. Si, don’t you feel noth- 
in’?" 

“No," said Si sheepishly; “I’m all right. Didn’t 
you eat nothin’ else but them?" 

“Naw," said Shorty disgustedly. “Nothin’ but 
my usual load o’ hardtack and pork. Yes, I chawed 
a piece o’ sassafras root that one of the boys dug up." 

“Must’ve bin the sassafras root," said Si. He 
hated to lie, and made a resolution that he would 
make a clean breast to Shorty — at some more con- 
venient time. It was not opportune now. “That 
must’ve bin a sockdologer of a dose the Surgeon 
gave me," he muttered to himself. 

Shorty continued to writhe and howl, and Si made 


156 


SI KLEGG. 


a hypocritical offer of going for the Surgeon, but 
Shorty vetoed that emphatically. 

“No ; blast old Sawbones,'^ he said. “He won’t do 
nothin’ but give me bluemass and quinine, and I 
never could nor would take bluemass. It’s only 
fit for horses and hogs.” 

Toward morning Shorty grew quite weak, and 
correspondingly depressed. 

“Si,” said he, “I may not git over this. This may 
be the breakin’ out o’ the cholera that the folks 
around here say comes every seven years and kills 
off the strangers; Si, I’ll tell you a secret. A letter 
may come for me. If I don’t git over this, and the 
letter comes, I want you to burn it up without read- 
ing it, and write a letter to Miss Jerusha Ellen 
Briggs, Bad Ax, Wis., tellin’ her that I died like a 
man and soldier, and with her socks on, defendin’ 
his country.” 

Si whistled softly to himself. “I’ll do it. Shorty,” 
he said, and repeated the address to make sure. 

The crisis soon passed, however, and the morning 
found Shorty bright and cheerful, though weak. 

Si was puzzled how to get the whisky to Shorty. 
It would never do to let him know that he had gotten 
it especially for him. That would have been so con- 
trary to Si’s past as to arouse suspicion. He finally 
decided to lay it where it would seem that someone 
passing had dropped it, and Shorty could not help 
finding it. The plan worked all right. Shorty picked 
it up in a few minutes after Si had deposited it, and 
made quite an ado over his treasure trove. 

“Splendid applejack,” he said, tasting it; “little 
bitter, but that probably comes from their using dog- 


shorty's correspondent. 


157 


wood in the fires when they’re ’stillin’. They know 
that dogwood’ll make the liquor bitter, but they’re 
too all-fired lazy to go after any other kind o’ wood.” 
He drank, and as he drank his spirits rose. After 



SHORTY WANTS TO FIGHT GROUNDHOG, 
the first dram he thought he would clean around the 
tent, and make their grounds look neater than any- 
body else’s. After the second he turned his attention 
to his arms and accouterments. After the third he 
felt like going out on a scout and finding some rebels. 


158 


SI KLEGG. 


to vary the monotony of the camp-life. After the 
fourth, “Groundhog,’' unluckily for himself, came 
along, and Shorty remembered that he had long owed 
the teamster a licking, and he felt that the debt 
should not be allowed to run any longer. He ordered 
Groundhog to halt and receive his dues. The team- 
ster demurred, but Shorty was obdurate, and began 
preparations to put his intention into operation, 
when the Orderly-Sergeant came down through the 
company street distributing mail. 

“Shorty,” he said, entirely ignoring the bellicosity 
of the scene, “here’s a letter for you.” 

Shorty’s first thought was to look at the postmark. 
Sure enough, it was Bad Ax, Wis. Instantly his 
whole demeanor changed. Here was something a 
hundred times more important than licking any 
teamster that ever lived. 

“Git out, you scab,” he said contemptously. “I 
haint no time to fool with you now. You’ll keep. 
This won’t.” 

Groundhog mistook the cause of his escape. “O, 
you’re powerful anxious to fight, ain’t you, till you 
find I’m ready for you, and then you quile down. 
I’ll let you know, sir, that you mustn’t give me no 
more o’ your sass. I won’t stand it from you. You 
jest keep your mouth shet after this, if you know 
when you’re well off.” 

The temptation would have been irresistible to 
Shorty at any other time, but now he must go off 
somewhere where he could be alone with his letter, 
and to the amazement of all the spectators he made 
no reply to the teamster’s gibes, but holding the 


shorty's correspondent. 159 

precious envelope firmly in his hand, strode off to 
the seclusion of a neighboring laurel thicket. 

His first thought, as he sat down and looked the 
envelope over again, was shame that it had come to 
him when he was under the influence of drink. He 
remembered the writer’s fervent Christianity, and 
it seemed to him that it would be a gross breach of 
faith for him to open and read the letter while the 
fumes of whisky were on his breath. He had a 
struggle with his burning desire to see the inside of 
the envelope, but he conquered, and put the letter 
back in his pocket until he was thoroughly sober. 

But he knew not what to do to fill up the time till 
he could conscientiously open the letter. He thought 
of going back and fulfilling his long-delayed purpose 
of thrashing Groundhog, but on reflection this 
scarcely commended itself as a fitting prelude. 

He heard voices approaching — one sympathetic 
and encouraging, the other weak, pain-breathing-, al- 
most despairing. He looked out and saw the Chap- 
lain helping back to the hospital a sick man who had 
over-estimated his strength and tried to reach his 
company. The man sat down on a rock, in utter 
exhaustion. ' 

Shorty thrust the letter back into his blouse- 
pocket, sprang forward, picked the man up in his 
strong afms, and carried him bodily to the hospital. 
It taxed his strength to the utmost, but it sobered 
him and cleared his brain. 

He returned to his covert, took out his letter, and 
again scanned its exterior carefully. He actually 
feared to open it, but at last drew his knife and care- 
fully slit one side. He unfolded the inclosure as 


160 


SI KLEGG. 


carefully as if it had been a rare flower, and with 
palpitating heart slowly spelled out the words, one 
after another : 



''Bad Ax, Wisconsin, 
"April the Twenty-First, 1863. 
"Mister Daniel Elliott, Company Q, 200th Indiana 
Volunteer Infantry. 

"Respected Sir : I taik my pen in hand toe inform 
you that I am wel, and hoap that you aire in joying 



shorty's correspondent. 


161 


the saim blessing. For this, God be prazed and mag- 
nified forever." 

“Goodness, how religious she is," said he, stopping 
to ruminate. “How much nicer it makes a woman to 
be pious. It don't hurt a man much to be a cuss — at 
least while he's young — ^but I want a woman to be 
awfully religious. It sets her off more'n anything 
else." 

He continued his spelling exercise : 

“I am verry glad that my sox reached you all rite, 
that they fell into the hands of a braiv, pious Union 
soldier, and he found them nice." 

“Brave, pious Union soldier," he repeated to him- 
self, with a whistle. “Jewhilikins, I'm glad Bad Ax, 
Wis., is so fur away that she never heard me makin' 
remarks when a mule-team's stalled. But I must git 
a brace on myself, and clean up my langwidge for 
inspection-day." 

He resumed the spelling: 

“I done the best I could on them, and moren that 
no one can do. Wimmen cant fite in this cruel war, 
but they ought all to do what they can. I only wish 
I could do more. But the wimmen must stay at 
home and watch and wait, while the men go to the 
front." 

“That's all right. Miss Jerusha Ellen Briggs," said 
he, with more satisfaction. “You jest stay at home 
and watch and wait, and I'll try to do fightin' enough 
for both of us. I'll put in some extra licks in future 
on your account, and they won't miss you from the 
front." 

The next paragraph read : 

“I should like to hear more of you and your regi- 


162 


SI KLEGG. 


ment. The only time I ever beared of the 200th In- 
diana regiment was in a letter writ home by one of 
our Wisconsin boys and published in the Bad Ax 
Grindstone, in which he said they wuz brigaded with 
the 200th Indiana, a good fighting regiment, but 
which would stele even the shoes off the brigade 
mules if they wuzzent watched, and sumtimes when 
they wuz. Ime sorry to hear that any Union soldier 
is a thief. I know that our boys from Wisconsin 
would rather die than stele.'' 

'‘Steal! The 200th Injianny steal!" Shorty flamed 
out in a rage. “Them flabbergasted, knock-kneed, 
wall-eyed Wisconsin whelps writin' home that the 
Injiannians are thieves! The idee o' them long- 
haired, splay-footed lumbermen, them chuckle- 
headed, wap-sided, white-pine butchers talking about 
anybody else's honesty. Why, they wuz born stealin'. 
They never knowed anything else. They'd steal the 
salt out o' your hardtack. They'd steal the lids off 
the Bible. They talk about the 200th Injiannny ! I'd 
like to find the liar that writ that letter. I'd literally 
pound the head offen him." 

It was some time before he could calm himself 
down sufficiently to continue his literary exercise. 
Then he made out : 

“Spring's lait here, but things is looking very well. 
Wheat wintered good, and a big crop is expected. 
We had a fine singing-school during the Winter, but 
the protracted meeting drawed off a good many. We 
doant complain, however, for the revival brought a 
great many into the fold. No moar at present, but 
beleave me 

“Sincely Your Friend, 

“Jerusha Ellen Briggs." 


shorty's correspondent. 


163 


Shorty’s heart almost choked him when he finished. 
It was the first time in his life that he had received a 
letter from any woman. It was the first time since 
his mother’s days that any woman had shown the 
slightest interest in his personality. And, true man 
like, his impulses were to exalt this particular woman 
into something above the mere mortal. 

Then came a hot flush of indignation that the Wis- 
consin men should malign his regiment, which, of 
course, included him, to the mind of such a being. He 
burned to go over and thrash the first Wisconsin man 
he should meet. 

“Call us thieves ; say we’ll steal,” he muttered, as 
he walked toward the Wisconsin camp. “I’ll learn 
’em different.” 

He did not see anybody in the camp that he could 
properly administer this needed lesson to. All the 
vigorous, able-bodied members' seemed to be out on 
drill or some other duty, leaving only a few sick 
moping around the tents. 

Shorty’s attention was called to a spade lying 
temptingly behind one of the tents. He and Si had 
badly wanted a spade for several days. Here was an 
opportunity to acquire one. Shorty sauntered care- 
lessly around to the rear of the tent, looked about to 
see that no one was observing, picked up the imple- 
ment and walked off with it with that easy, innocent 
air that no one could assume with more success than 
he when on a predatory expedition. 


CHAPTER XIL 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS — SI HAS A HARD TIME TRYING 
TO KEEP WHISKY OUT OF CAMP. 

ETAIL for guard to-morrow,” sang out 
I J the Orderly-Sergeant, after he had finished 
the evening roll-call: "‘Bailey, Belcher, 
Doolittle, Elliott, Fracker, Gleason, Hendricks, Hum- 
merson. Long, Mansur, Nolan, Thompson.” 

“Corp’l Klegg, you will act as Sergeant of the 
Guard. 

“Dan Elliott will act as Corporal of the Guard.” 

It is one of the peculiarities of men that the less 
they have to do the less they want to do. The boys 
of Co. Q were no different from the rest. When they 
were in active service a more lively, energetic crowd 
could not be found in the army. They would march 
from daybreak till midnight, and build roads, dig 
ditches, and chop trees on the way. They were 
ready and willing for any service, and none were 
louder than they in their condemnation when they 
thought that the officers did not order done what 
should be. But when lying around camp, with ab- 
solutely nothing to do but ordinary routine, they de- 
veloped into the laziest mortals that breathed. To 
do a turn of guard duty was a heart-breaking afflic- 
tion, and the Orderly-Sergeant’s announcement of 
those who were detailed for the morrow brought 
forth a yell of protest from every man whose name 
was called. 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 165 

“I only come off guard day before yesterday/' 
shouted Bailey. 

'Tm sick, and can’t walk a step,” complained 
Belcher, who had walked 15 miles the day before, 
hunting “pies-an’-milk.” 

“That blamed Orderly’s got a spite at me; he’d 
keep me on guard every day in the week,” grum- 
bled Doolittle. 

“I was on fatigue dooty only yesterday,” protested 
Fracker, who had to help carry the company rations 
from the Commissary’s tent. 

“I’m goin’ to the Surgeon an’ git an excuse,” said 
Gleason, who had sprained his wrist a trifle in turn- 
ing a handspring. 

So it went through the whole list. 

“I want to see every gun spick-and-span, every 
blouse brushed and buttoned, and every shoe neatly 
blacked, when I march you up to the Adjutant,” said 
the Orderly, entirely oblivious to the howls. “If any 
of you don’t, he’ll have a spell of digging up roots on 
the parade. I won’t have such a gang of scarecrows 
as I have had to march out the last few days. You 
fellows make a note of .that, and govern yourselves 
accordingly.” 

“Right face — Break ranks — March !” 

“Corp’l Klegg,” said the Officer of the Day the 
next morning, as Si Was preparing to relieve the old 
guard, “the Colonel is very much worked up over the 
amount of whisky that finds its way into camp. Now 
that we are out here by ourselves we certainly ought 
to be able to control this. Yet there was a disgust- 
ing number of drunken men in camp yesterday, and 
a lot of trouble that should not be. The Colonel has 


166 


SI KLEGG. 


talked very strongly on this subject, and he expects 
us to-day to put a stop to this. I want you to make 
an extra effort to keep whisky out. I think you can 
do it if you try real hard.’' 

“I’ll do my best, sir,” said Si, saluting. 

“Shorty,” Si communed with his next in rank be- 
fore they started on their rounds with the first re- 
lief, “we must see that there’s no whisky brung into 
camp this day.” 

“You jest bet your sweet life there won’t be, 
either,” returned Shorty. He felt not a little elated 
over his brevet rank and the responsibilities of his 
position as Corporal of the Guard. “This here 
camp’ll be as dry as the State o’ Maine to-day.” 

It was a hot, dull day, with little to occupy the 
time of those off guard. As usual, Satan was finding 
“some mischief for idle hands to do.” 

After he put on the first relief. Si went back to the 
guard tent and busied himself awhile over the details 
of work to be found there. There were men under 
sentence of hard labor that he had to find employ- 
ment for, digging roots, cleaning up the camp, chop- 
ping wood and making trenches. He got the usual 
chin-music from those whom he set to enforced toil, 
about the injustice of their sentences and “the airs 
that some folks put on when they wear a couple of 
stripes,” but he took this composedly, and after 
awhile went the rounds to look over his guard-line, 
taking Shorty with him. 

Everything seemed straight and soldierly, and they 
sat down by a cool spring in a little shady hollow. 

“Did you ever notice. Shorty,” said Si, specula- 
tively, as he looked over the tin cup of cool water he 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 


167 


was sipping, “how long and straight and string-like 
the cat-brier grows down here in this country ? You 
see 25 or 30 feet of it at times no thicker'n wool- 
twine. Now, there’s a piece layin’ right over there, 
on t’other side o’ the branch, more’n a rod long, and 
no thicker’n a rye straw.” 

“I see it, an’ I never saw a piece o’ cat-brier move 
endwise before,” said Shorty, fixing his eyes on the 
string-like green. 

“As sure’s you’re alive, it is movin’,” said Si, start- 
ing to rise. 

“Set still, keep quiet an’ watch,” admonished 
Shorty. “You’ll find out more.” 

Si sat still and looked. The direction the brier was 
moving was toward the guard-line, some 100 feet 
away to the left. About the same distance to the 
right was a thicket of alders, where Si thought he 
heard voices. There were indications in the weeds 
that the cat-brier extended to there. 

The brier maintained its outward motion. Pres- 
ently a clump of rags was seen carried along by it. 

“They’re sending out their money for whisky,” 
whispered Shorty. “Keep quiet, and we’ll confiscate 
the stuff when it comes in.” 

They saw the rag move straight toward the guard- 
line, and pass under the log on which the sentry 
walked when he paced his beat across the branch. 
It finally disappeared in a bunch of willows. 

Presently a bigger rag came out from the willows, 
in response to the backward movement of the long 
cat-brier, and crawled slowly back under the log and 
into camp. As it came opposite Si jumped out, put 
his foot on the cat-brier, and lifted up the rag. He 


168 


SI KLEGG. 


found, as he had expected, that it wrapped up a pint 
flask of whisky. 

‘‘0, come off. Si ; come off. Shorty !” appealed some 
of Co. Q from the alders. “Drop that. You ain’t 
goin’ to be mean, boys. You don’t need to know 
nothin’ about that, an’ why go makin’ yourselves 
fresh when there’s no necessity? We want that 
awful bad, and we’ve paid good money for it.” 

“No, sir,” said Shorty sternly, as he twisted the 
bottle off, and smashed it on the stones. “No whisky 
goes into this camp. I’m astonished at you. 
Whisky’s a cuss. It’s the bane of the army. It’s the 
worm that never dies. Its feet lead down to hell. 
Who hath vain babblings? Who hath redness of 
eyes? The feller that drinks likker, and especially 
Tennessee rotgut.” 

“0, come off ; stop that dinged preaching. Shorty,” 
said one impatiently. “There’s nobody in this camp 
that likes whisky better’n you do; there’s nobody 
that’ll go further to get it, an’ there’s nobody up to 
more tricks to beat the guard.” 

“What I do as a private soldier, Mr. Blakesley,” 
said Shorty with dignity, “haint nothing to do with 
my conduct when I’m charged with responsible dooty. 
It’s my dooty to stop the awful practice o’ likker- 
drinkin’ in this camp, an’ I’m goin’ to do it, no mat- 
ter what the cost. You jest shet up that clam-shell 
o’ your’n an’ stop interfering with your officers.” 

Si and Shorty went outside the lines to the clump 
of willows, but they were not quick enough to catch 
Groundhog, the teamster, and the civilian whom our 
readers will remember as having his head shaved in 
the camp at Murfreesboro some weeks before. They 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 


169 


found, however, a jug of new and particularly rasp- 
ing apple-jack. There was just an instant of waver- 
ing in Shorty’s firmness when he uncorked the jug 
and smelled its contents. He lifted it to his lips, to 
further confirm its character, and Si trembled, for he 
saw the longing in his partner’s eyes. The latter’s 
hand shook a little as the first few drops touched his 
tongue, but with the look of a hero he turned and 
smashed the jug on a stone. 

“You’re solid. Shorty,” said Si. 

“Yes, but it was an awful wrench. Le’s git away 
from the smell o’ the stuff,” answered Shorty. “Fm 
afraid it’ll be too much for me yit.” 

“Corporal of the Guard, Post No. 1,” 

“Sergeant of the Guard, Post No. 1,” 
came down the line of sentries as the two boys were 
sauntering back to camp. 

“Somethin’s happening over there at the gate,” 
said Si, and they quickened their steps in the direc- 
tion of the main entrance to the camp. 

They found there a lank, long-haired, ragged Ten- 
nesseean, with a tattered hat of white wool on his 
head. His scanty whiskers were weather-beaten, 
he had lost most of his front teeth, and as he talked 
he spattered everything around with tobacco- juice. 
He rode on a blind, raw-bone horse, which, with a de- 
jected, broken-down mule, was attached by ropes, 
fragments of straps, withes, and pawpaw bark to a 
shackly wagon. 

In the latter were some strings of dried apples, a 
pile of crescents of dried pumpkins, a sack of meal, a 
few hands of tobacco, and a jug of buttermilk. 

“I want t’ go inter the camps an’ sell a leetle jag o’ 


1?0 


si KLECC. 


truck,” the native explained, as he drenched the sur- 
rounding weeds with tobacco-j nice. “My ole woman’s 
powerful sick an’ ailin’, an’ I need some money aw- 
fully t’ git her some quinine. Yarbs don’t seem t’ 
do her no sort o’ good. She must have some Yankee 
quinine, and she’s nigh dead fer some Yankee coffee. 
This war’s mouty hard on po’ people. Hit’s jest 
killin’ ’em by inches, by takin’ away their coffee an’ 
quinine. I’m a Union man, an’ allers have bin.” 

“You haint got any whisky in that wagon, have 
you?” asked Si. 

“0, Lord, no! nary mite. You don’t think I’d try 
t’ take whisky into camp, do you ? I’m not sich a bad 
man as that. Besides, whar’d I git whisky? The 
war’s broke up all the ’stilleries in the country. What 
the Confedrits didn’t burn yo’uns did. I’ve bin suf- 
ferin’ for months fur a dram o’ whisky, an’ as fur my 
ole woman, she’s nearly died. That’s the reason the 
yarbs don’t do her no good. She can’t get no whisky 
to soak ’em in.” 

“He’s entirely too talkative about the wickedness 
o’ bringin’ whisky into camp,” whispered Shorty. 
“He’s bin there before. He’s an old hand at the bus- 
iness.” 

“Sure you’ve got no whisky?” said Si. 

“Sartin, gentlemen ; sarch my wagon, if you don’t 
take my word. I only wish I knowed whar thar wuz 
some whisky. I’d walk 20 miles in the rain t’ git one 
little flask fur my ole woman and myself. I tell you, 
thar haint a drap t’ be found in the hull Duck River 
Valley. ’Stilleries all burnt, I tell you.” And in the 
earnestness of his protestations he sprayed his team. 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 


171 


himself, and the neighboring weeds with liquid to- 
bacco. 

Si stepped back and carefully searched the wagor, 
opening the meal sack, uncorking the buttermilk jug, 
and turning over the dried apples, pumpkins and to- 
bacco. There certainly was no whisky there. 

Shorty stood leaning on his musket and looking 
at the man. He was pretty sure that the fellow had 
had previous experience in running whisky into 
camp, and was up to the tricks of the trade. Instead 
of a saddle the man had under him an old calico 
quilt, whose original gaudy colors were sadly 
dimmed by the sun, rain, and dirt. Shorty stepped 
forward and lifted one corner. His suspicions were 
right. It had an under pocket, in which was a flat, 
half-pint flask with a cob stopper, and fllled with 
apple-jack so new that it was as colorless as water. 

“I wuz jest bringin’ that ’ere in fur you, Capting,” 
said the Tennesseean, with a profound wink and an 
unabashed countenance. “Stick hit in your pocket, 
quick. None o’ the rest ’s seed you.” 

Shorty flung the bottle down and ordered the man 
off his horse. The quilt was examined. It contained 
a half-dozen more flasks, each holding a “half-pint 
of throat-scorch and at least two fights,” as Shorty 
expressed it. A clumsy leather contrivance lay on 
the hames of the mule. Flasks were found under- 
neath this, and the man himself was searched. More 
flasks were* pulled out from the tail pockets of his 
ragged coat ; from his breast ; from the crown of his 
ragged hat. 

“Well,” said Shorty, as he got through, “you’re 
a regler grogshop on wheels. All you need is a lot o’ 


172 


SI KLEGG. 


loafers talkin’ politics, a few picturs o’ racin’ bosses 
and some customers buried in the village graveyard 
to be a first-class bar-room. Turn around and git 
back to that ole woman o’ your’n, or we’ll make you 
sicker’n she is.” 

Si and Shorty marched around with the second 
relief, and then sat down to talk over the events of 
the morning. 

“I guess we’ve purty well settled the whisky busi- 
ness for to-day, at least,” said Si. “The Colonel 
can’t complain of us. I don’t think we’ll have any 
more trouble. Seems to me that there can’t be no 
more whisky in this part o’ Tennessee, from the 
quantity we’ve destroyed.” 

“Don’t be too dinged sure o’ that,” said Shorty. 
“Whisky seems to brew as naturally in this country 
as the rosin to run out o’ the pine trees. I never 
saw sich a country fur likker. They have more stills 
in Tennessee than blacksmith shops, and they work 
stiddier.” 

Si looked down the road and saw returning a 
wagon which had been sent out in the morning for 
forage. It was well loaded, and the guards who 
were marching behind had a few chickens and other 
supplies that they had gathered up. 

“Boys seem to be purty fresh, after their tramp,” 
said he, with the first thought of a soldier looking at 
marching men. “They’ve all got their guns at carry 
arms. I noticed that as they came over the hill.” 

“Yes,” answered Shorty, after a glance, “and 
they’re holdin’ ’em up very stiff an’ straight. That 
gives me an idee. Le’s go over there an’ take a look 
at ’em.” 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 


173 


Shorty had sniffed at a trick that he had more 
than once played in getting the forbidden beverage 
past the lynx-eyed sentry. 

“Don’t you find it hard work to march at rout- 
step with your guns at a carry?” he said insinuat- 
ingly. “No need o’ doin’ that except on parade or 
drill. Right-shoulder-shift or arms-at-will is the 
thing when you’re on the road.” 

“H-s-sh,” said the leading file, with a profound 
wink and a sidelong glance at Si. “Keep quiet, 
Shorty,” he added in a stage whisper. “We’ll give 
you some. It’s all right. We’ll whack up fair.” 

“No, it ain’t all right,” said Shorty, with properly 
offended official dignity. “Don’t you dare offer to 
bribe me. Buck Harper, when I’m on duty. Hand 
me that gun this minute.” 

Harper shamefacedly handed over the musket, 
still holding it carefully upright. Shorty at once re- 
versed it and a stream of whisky ran out upon the 
thirsty soil. 

Si grasped the situation, and disarmed the others 
with like result. 

“I ought to put every one o’ you in the guardhouse 
for this. It’s lucky that the Officer of the Guard 
wasn’t here. He’d have done it. There he comes 
now. Skip out after the wagon, quick, before he 
gits on to you.” 

“What next?” sighed Si. “Is the whole world 
bent on bringin’ whisky into this camp? Haint they 
got none for the others?” 

“Sergeant of the Guard, Post No. 1,” rang out 
upon the hot air. Si walked over again to the en- 
trance, and saw seeking admission a tall, bony 


174 


SI KLEGG. 


woman, wearing a dirty and limp sunbonnet and 
smoking a corn-cob pipe. She was mounted on a 
slab-sided horse, with ribs like a washboard, and 
carried a basket on her arm covered with a coarse 
cloth none too clean. 

“Looks as if she’d bin picked before she was ripe 
and got awfully warped in the dryin’. All the same 
she’s loaded with whisky,” commented Shorty as the 
woman descended from her saddle and approached 
the sentry with an air of resolute demand. 

“You haint got no right to stop me, young feller,” 
she said. “I come in Lyar every day an’ bring pies. 
Your Jinerul said I could, an’ he wanted me to. His 
men want my pies, an’ they do ’em good. Hit’s home- 
cookin’, an’ takes the taste o’ the nasty camp vittles 
out o’ their mouths, an’ makes ’em healthy. You 
jest raise yer gun, an’ let me go right in, or I’ll tell 
yer Jinerul, an’ he’ll make it warm fur yer. I’ve 
got a pass from him.” 

“Let me see your pass,” said Si, stepping forward. 
The woman unhooked her linsey dress, fumbled 
around in the recesses, and finally produced a soiled 
and crumpled paper, which, when straightened out, 
read: 

“Mrs. Sarah Bolster has permission to pass in 
and out of the camp of the 200th Indiana Volunteer 
Infantry. 

“By order of Col. Quackenbush. 

“D. L. Blakemore, Lieut. & Adj’t.” 

“What’ve you got in that basket?” asked Si, still 
hesitating. 

“Pies,” she answered confidently. “The best pies 
you ever seed. Some of ’em pumpkin ; but the heft 


BAN ON Wet goods. 


1?5 


of 'em dried apple, with lots o' 'lasses in fur sweet- 
enin'. Your mother never baked better pies 'n 'em." 

“To my mind," muttered Shorty, as he stepped 
forward to investigate the basket, “she's the kind o' 
a woman I'd like to have bake pies for a gang o' 
State's prison birds that I wanted to kill off with- 
out the trouble o' bangin'. Say, ma'am, are your 
pies pegged or sewed? What'd you use for short- 
enen' — injy rubber or Aunt Jemimy's plaster?" he 
continued as he turned back the cloth and surveyed 
the well-known specimens of mountain baking which 
were as harmful to Uncle Sam's boys as the bullets 
of their enemies. 

“Young feller, none o' yer sass," she said severely. 
“Them's better pies than ye're used ter. Folks that's 
never had nothin' air allers the most partickeler, an' 
turnin' up thar noses at rayly good things. Don't 
fool with me no more, but let me go on inter camp, 
fur the soljers air expectin' me." 

“Sure you haint got no whisky down in the bot- 
tom o' that basket?" said Si, pushing the pies about 
a little, to get a better look. 

The indignation of the woman at this insinuation 
was stunning. She took her pipe out of her mouth 
to better express her contempt for men who would 
insult a Southern lady by such a hint — one, too, that 
had been of so much benefit to the soldiers by toil- 
ing over the hot oven to prepare for them food more 
acceptable than the coarse rations their stingy Gov- 
ernment furnished them. She had never been so in- 
sulted in her life, and she would bring down on them 
dire punishment from the Colonel. 

Several experiences with the tongue-lashings of 


SI KLEGC. 


m 

Southern viragoes had made Si and Shorty less im- 
pressed by them than they had been earlier in their 
service. Still, they had the healthy young man’s 
awe of anything that wore skirts, and the tirade 
produced its effect, but not strong enough to eradi- 
cate the belief that she was a whisky-bringer. While 
she stormed Si kept his eyes fixed upon the scant 
linsey dress which draped her tall form. Presently 
he said to Shorty : 

“What do you think? Shall we let her go in?” 

Shorty whispered back with great deliberation : 

“Si, what I know about the female form don’t 
amount to shucks. Least of all the Tennessee female 
form. But I’ve been lookin’ that ’ere woman over 
carefully while she’s been jawin’, an’ while she’s 
naturally covered with knots and knobs in places 
where it seems to me that women generally don’t 
have ’em, I can’t help believin’ that she’s got some 
knots and knobs that naturally don’t belong to her. 
In other words, she’s got a whole lot o’ flasks o’ 
whisky under her skirts.” 

“Jest what I’ve been suspicioriin’,” said Si. “I’ve 
heard that that’s the way lots o’ whisky is brung 
into camp. Shorty, as Corporal o’ the Guard, it’s 
your duty to search her.” 

“What!” yelled Shorty, horror-struck at the im- 
modest thought. “Si Klegg, are you gone plum 
crazy?” 

“Shorty,” said Si firmly, “it’s got to be done. She’s 
got a pass, and the right to go into camp. We’re 
both o’ the opinion that she’s carryin’ in whisky. If 
she was a man there’d be no doubt that she’d have 
to be searched. I don’t understand that the law 


THE BAN ON WET GOODS. 


177 


knows any difference in persons. No matter what 
you may think about it, it is your duty, as Corporal 
o' the Guard, to make the search." 

“No, sir-ree," insisted Shorty. “You’re Sergeant 
o’ the Guard, and it’s your dooty to make all 
searches.’’ 

“Shorty,’’ expostulated Si, “I’m much younger and 
modester’n you are, an’ haint seen nearly so much o’ 
the world. You ought to do this. Besides, you’re 
under my orders, as Actin’ Corporal. I order you 
to make the search.’’ 

“Si Klegg,’’ said Shorty firmly, “I’ll see you and 
all the Corporals and Sergeants betwixt here and 
Washington in the middle o’ next week before I’ll do 
it. You may buck-and-gag me, and tie me up by the 
thumbs, and then I won’t. I resign my position as 
Corporal right here, and’ll take by gun and go on 
post.’’ 

“What in the world are we goin’ to do?’’ said Si 
desperately. “If we let her in, she’ll fill the camp 
full o’ whisky, and she’ll have to go in, unless we 
kin show some reason for keepin’ her out. Hold on ; 
I’ve got an idee.’’ 

He went up to the woman and said : 

“You say you want to go into camp to sell your 
pies?’’ 

“Yes, sir, an’ I want to go in right off — no more 
foolin’ around,’’ she answered tartly. 

“How many pies’ve you got?’’ 

She went through a laborious counting, and finally 
announced : “Eight altogether.’’ 

“How much are they worth?’’ 

“Fifty cents apiece.’’ 


7 


178 


SI KLEGG. 


“Very good/' announced Si taking some money 
from his pocket. “That comes to $4. I’ll take the lot 
and treat the boys. Here’s your money. Now you’ve 
got no more business in camp, jest turn around and 
mosey for home. You’ve made a good day’s busi- 
ness, and ought to be satisfied.” 

The woman scowled with disappointment. But she 
wisely concluded that she had better be content witn 
the compromise, remounted her horse and disap- 
peared down the road. 

“That was a sneak out of a difficulty,” Si confessed 
to Shorty ; “but you were as big a coward as I was.” 

“No, I wasn’t,” insisted Shorty, still watchful. 
“You’d no right to order me do something that you 
was afraid to do yourself. That’s no kind o’ officer- 
ing.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE JEW SPY WRITES — SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE 
WITH A “LONE, LORN WILDER LADY.” 

WONDER what has become of our Jew spy, 
Shorty?'' said Si, as he and Shorty sat on 
the bank of Duck River and watched the 
rebel pickets lounging under the beeches on the 
other side. **We hain't heard nothin' of him for 
more'n a month now." 

''He's probably hung," answered Shorty. "He 
was entirely too smart to live long. A man can't 
go on always pokin' his finger into a rattlesnake's 
jaw without gittin' it nipped sooner or later." 

"I'm looking fur a man called Si Klegg," they 
heard behind them. Looking around they saw the 
tall, gaunt woman whom they had turned back 
from entering the camp a few days before, under 
the belief that she was trying to smuggle in whisky. 

"What in the world can she want o' me?" thought 
Si; but he answered: 

"That's my name. What'll you have?" 

A flash of recognition filled at once her faded 
blue eyes. Without taking her pipe from between 
her yellow, snaggly teeth she delivered a volley of 
tobacco-juice at an unoffending morning-glory, and 
snapped out: 

"0, y'r him, air ye? Y'r the dratted measly sap- 


180 


SI KLEGG. 


sucker that bounced me ’bout takin’ likker inter 
camp. What bizniss wuz hit o’ your’n whether I tuk 
likker in or not? Jest wanted t’ be smart, didn’t ye? 
Jest wanted t’ interfere with a lone, lorn widder 
lady makin’ a honest livin’ for herself and 10 chil- 
dren. My ole man ketched the black ager layin’ out 
in the brush to dodge thfe conscripters. It went 
plumb to his heart an’ killed him. He wa’n’t no 
great loss, nohow, fur he’d eat more in a week than 
he’d kill, ketch, or raise in a year. When his light 
went out I’d only one less mouth to feed, and got 
rid o’ his jawin’ an’ cussin’ all the time. But that 
hain’t nothin’ t’ do with you. You ’s jest puttin’ 
on a lettle authority kase ye could. But all men air 
alike that-a-way. Elect a man Constable, an’ he 
wants t’ put on more airs than the Guv-nor; marry 
him, an’ he makes ye his slave.” 

“I should think it’d be a bold man that’d try to 
make you his slave. Madam,” Si ventured. 

‘‘Y’ she’d think,” she retorted, with her arms 
akimbo. “Who axed y’ t’ think, young feller? 
What d’ y’ do hit with. Why d’ y’ strain y’rself 
doin’ somethin’ y’ ain’t used t’?” 

It did Shorty so much good to see Si squelched, 
that he chuckled aloud and called out: 

“Give it to him, old Snuff-Dipper. He’s from the 
Wabash, an’ hain’t no friends. He’s bin itchin’ a 
long time for jest such a skinnin’ as you’re givin’ 
him.” 

“Who air y’ callin’ Snuff-Dipper?” she retorted, 
turning angrily on Shorty. “What’ve ye got t’ say 
agin snuff-dippin’, anyway, y’ terbacker-chawin’, 
likker- guzzlin’, wall-eyed, splay-footed, knock-kneed 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


181 


oaf? What air y’ greasy hirelings a-comin’ down 
heah fo’, t’ sass and slander Southern ladies, who 
air yo’ superiors ?” 

^‘Give it to him, old Corncob Pipe,” yelled Si 
“He needs lambastin' worse’n any man in the regi- 
ment. But what did you want to see me for?” 

“I wanted to see yo' bekase I got a letter to yo' 
from a friend o’ mine, who said yo’ wuz gentlemen, 
an’ rayly not Yankees at all. He said that yo’ wuz 
forced into the army agin yo’ will.” 

“Gracious, what a liar that man must be,” mur- 
mured Shorty to himself. 

“An’ yo’ rayly had no heart to fight for the nigger, 
an’ that yo’d treat me like a sister.” 

“A sister,” Shorty exploded internally. “Think of 
a feller’s havin’ a sister like that. Why, I wouldn’t 
throw her in a soap-grease barrel.” 

“Who was this friend. Madam?” said Si, “and 
where is his letter?” 

“I don’t know whether to give it to yo’ or not,” 
said she. “Y’re not the men at all that he ascribed 
to me. He said yo’ wuz very good-lookin’, perlite 
gentlemen, who couldn’t do too much for a lady.” 

“Sorry we’re not as handsome as you expected,” 
said Si; “but mebbe that’s because we’re in fatigue 
uniforms. You ought to see my partner there when 
he’s fixed up for parade. He’s purtier’n a red wagon 
then. Let me see the letter. I can tell then whether 
we’re the men or not.” 

“Kin yo’ read?” she asked suspiciously. 

“0, yes,” answered Si laughingly at the thought 
almost universal in the South that reading and 
writing were — like the Gift of Tongues — a special 


182 


SI KLEGG. 


dispensation to a few favored individuals only. “I 
can read and do lots o’ things that common people 
can’t. I’m seventh son of a seventh son, born with 
a caul on my head at the time o’ the full moon. Let 
me see the letter.” 

She was not more than half convinced, but un- 
hooked her dress and took a note from her bosom, 
which she stuck out toward Si, holding tightly on to 
one end in the meanwhile. Si read, in Levi Rosen- 
baum’s flourishing, ornate handwriting: 

“Corporal Josiah Klegg, 

Co. Q, 200th Indiana Volunteers, 
in Camp on Duck River.” 

“That means me,” said Si, taking' hold of the end 
of the envelope. “There ain’t but one 200th In- 
jianny Volunteers; there’s no other Co. Q, and I’m 
the only Josiah Klegg.” 

The woman still held on to the other end of the 
letter. 

“It comes,” continued Si, “from a man a little 
under medium size, with black hair and eyes, dresses 
well, talks fast, and speaks a Dutch brogue.” 

“That’s him,” said the woman, relinquishing the 
letter, and taking a seat under the shade of a young 
cucumber tree, where she proceeded to fill her pipe, 
while awaiting the reading of the missive. 

Si stepped off a little ways, and Shorty looked over 
his shoulder as he opened the letter and read : 

“Dear Boys : This will be handed you, if it reaches 
vou at all, by Mrs. Bolster, who has more about 
her than you think.” 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


183 


‘‘I don’t know about that,” muttered Shorty; “the 
last time I had the pleasure o’ meetin’ the lady she 
had ’steen dozen bottles o’ head-bust about her.” 

“She’s a Confederate, as far as she goes,” Si con- 
tinued reading, “which is not very far. She don’t 
go but a little ways. A jay-bird that did not have 
any more brains would not build much of a nest. 
But she is very useful to me, and I want you to get 
in with her. As soon as you read this I want Si to 
give her that pair of horn combs I gave him. Do it 
at once. Sincerely your friend, 

“Levi Rosenbaum,” 

Si knit his brows in perplexity and wonderment 
over this strange message. He looked at Shorty, 
but Shorty’s face was as blank of explanation as 
his own. He fumbled around in his blouse pocket, 
drew forth the combs, and handed them to the 
woman. Her dull face lighted up visibly. She ex- 
amined the combs carefully, as if fitting them to a de- 
scription, and, reaching in her bosom, pulled out an- 
other letter and handed it to Si. 

When this was opened Si read : 

“Dear Boys: Now you will understand the comb 
business. I wanted to make sure that my letter 
Peached the right men, and the combs were the only 
things I could think of at the moment. Mrs. B. will 
prize them, though she will never think of using 
them, either on herself or one of her shock-headed 
brats. I want you to play it on her as far as your 
consciences will allow. Pretend that you are awful 
sick of this Abolition war, and tired fighting for the 
nigger, and all that stuff. Make her the happiest 


184 


SI KLEGG. 


woman in Tennessee by giving her all the coffee you 
can spare. That will fetch her quicker and surer 
than anything else. Like most Southern women, she 
is a coffee-drinker first and a rebel afterward, and 
if some preacher would tell her that heaven is a 
place where she will get all the Yankee coffee she 
can drink, she would go to church regularly for the 
rest of her life. Tell her a lot of news — as much of 
it true as you can and think best; as much of it 
otherwise as you can invent. Follow her cautiously 
when she leaves camp. Don’t let her see you do so. 
You will find that she will lead you to a nest of 
spies, and the place where all the whisky is furnished 
to sell in camp. I write you thus freely because I am 
certain that this will get in your hands. I know that 
your regiment is out here, because I have been watch- 
ing it for a week, with reference to its being at- 
tacked. It won’t be for at least awhile, for there’s 
another hen on. But make up to the old lady as 
much as your consciences and stomachs will allow 
you. It will be for the best interests of the service. 

“Sincerely your friend, Levi Rosenbaum.” 

“I wonder what game Levi is up to?” Si said, as 
he stood with the letter in his hand and looked at 
the woman. “I’ll give her all the coffee I can and be 
very civil to her, but that’s as far as I’ll go. The 
old rebel cat. I’ll not lie to her for 40 Levi Rosen- 
baums.” 

“Well, I will,” said Shorty. “You fix her up with 
the coffee, and leave the rest to me. I always had a 
fancy for queer animals, and run off from home once 
to travel with a menagerie. I’d like to take her up 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


185 


North and start a side-show with her. The Queen 
o' the Raccoon Mountains/ or the ‘Champion Snuff- 
Dipper o' the Sequatchie Valley.' How’d that do for 
a sign?" 

“Well, go ahead," said Si. “But expect no help 
from me." 

“Mr. Klegg, when I want your help in courtin' a 
lady I'll let you know," said Shorty with dignity. Si 
went back to the tent to see about getting the coffee, 
and Shorty approached Mrs. Bolster with an engag- 
ing expression on his countenance. She was knock- 
ing the ashes out of her pipe. 

“Let me fill your pipe up again. Madam, with 
something very choice," said he, pulling out a plug 
of bright natural leaf. “Here's some terbacker the 
like o' which you never see in all your born days. 
It was raised from seed stole from the private stock 
of the High-muk-a-muk o' Turkey, brung acrost the 
ocean in a silver terbacker box for the use o' Presi- 
dent Buchanan, and planted in the new o' the moon 
on a piece o' ground that never before had raised 
nothin' but roses and sweet-williams. My oldest 
brother, who is a Senator from Oshkosh, got just one 
plug of it, which he divided with me." 

“0, my! is that true?" she gurgled. 

“It's as true as that you are a remarkably fine- 
lookin' woman," he said with unblushing counte- 
nance, as he began whittling off some of the tobacco 
to fill her pipe. “I was struck by your appearance 
as soon as I saw you. I always was very fond of the 
Southern ladies." 

“Sakes alive, air y'?" she asked; “then what air 
yo'uns down here toutin' we'uns fur?" 


186 


SI KLEGG. 


“That's a long story, m'm,” answered Shorty. “It 
was a trick o’ the Abolition politicians that got us 
into it. I’m awful sick o’ the war (that we hain’t 
gone ahead and knocked the heads offen this whole 
crowd instead o’ layin’ ’round here in camp for 
months)” he added as a mental reservation, “and 
wisht I was out of it (after we’ve hung Jeff Davis on 
a sour-apple tree) . Then I might settle down here 
and marry some nice woman. You’re a widder, I 
believe you said.” 

“Yes, I’m a widder,” she answered, taking her 
pipe from her mouth and giving him what she in- 
tended for a languishing smile, but which Shorty 
afterward said reminded him of a sun-crack in a mud 
fence. “Yes, I’m a widder. Bin so for gwine on six 
months. Sakes alive, but ye do talk nice. You air 
the best-lookin’ Yankee I’ve ever seed.” ' 

“Nothin’ painfully bashful about her,” thought 
Shorty. “But I must be careful not to let her get 
me near a Justice of the Peace. She’d marry me 
before I could ketch my breath. Madam,” he con- 
tinued aloud. 

“Yo’ may call me Sophrony,” she said, with an- 
other cavernous smile. 

“Well, Sophrony, let me present you with half o’ 
this plug o’ famous terbacker.” He drew his jack- 
knife and sliced the plug in two. “Take it, with my 
warmest respects. Here comes my partner with 
some coffee I’ve sent him for, and which I want you 
to have. It is not as much as I’d like to give you, 
but it’s all that I have. Some other day you shall 
have much more.” 

“Law’s sakes,” she bubbled, as the fragrant odor 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


187 


of the coffee reached her nose, and she hefted the 
package. “Yo’ air jest the nicest man I ever did see 
in all my born days. I didn’t s’pose thar wuz so nice 
a man, or sich a good-lookin’ one, in the hull Yankee 
army, or in the oonfederit either, fur that matter. 
But, then, yo’ ain’t no real blue-bellied Yankee.” 

“No, indeed, Sophrony. I never saw New England 
in all my life, nor did any o’ my people. They wuz 
from Virginny (about 500 miles, as near as I kin cal- 
culate)” he added to himself as a mental poultice. 

“Say, Mister, why don’t you leave the Yankee 
army?” 

“Can’t,” said Shorty, despairingly. “If I tried to 
git back home the Proves ’ll ketch me. If I go the 
other way the rebel’s ketch me. I’m betwixt the 
devil and the deep sea.” 

She sat and smoked for several minutes in sem- 
blance of deep thought, and spat with careful aim 
at one after another of the prominent weeds around. 
Then she said: 

“If yo’ want t’ splice with me, I kin take keer o’ 
yo’. I’ve helped run off several o’ the boys who wuz 
sick o’ this Abolition war. Thar’s two o’ them now 
with Bill Phillips’s gang makin’ it hot for the Yan- 
kee trains and camps. They’re makin’ more’n they 
ever did soljerin’, an’ havin’ a much better time, for 
they take whatever they want, no matter who it be- 
longs to. D’ yo’ know Groundhog, a teamster ? He’s 
in cahoots with us.” 

“Oh !” said Shorty to himself. “Here’s another lay 
altogether. Guess it’s my duty to work it for all that 
it’s worth.” 


188 


SI KLEGG. 


“Is it a bargain?’' she said suddenly, stretching out 
her long, skinny hand. 

“Sophrony,” said Shorty, taking her hand, “this is 
so sudden. I never thought o’ marryin’ — at least 
till this cruel war is over. I don’t know what kind 
of a husband I’d make. I don’t know whether I 
could fill the place o’ your late husband. I” 

“Yo’re not gwine t’ sneak out,” she said, with a 
fierce flash in her gray eyes. “If yo’ do I’ll have yo’ 
pizened.” 

“Now, who’s talkin’ about backin’ out?” said 
Shorty in a fever of placation, for he was afraid that 
some of the other boys would overhear the con- 
versation. “Don’t talk so loud. Come, let’s walk 
on toward your home. We kin talk on the way.” 

The proposition appeared reasonable. She took 
the bridle of her horse in her arm, and together 
they walked out through the guard-line. The sen- 
tries gave Shorty a deep, knowing wink as he passed. 
He went the more willingly, as he was anxious to 
find out more about the woman, and the operations 
of the gang with which she was connected. She 
had already said enough to explain several mysteri- 
ous things of recent occurrence. Night came down 
and as her ungainliness was not thrust upon him as 
it was in the broad glare of day, he felt less diffi- 
culty in professing a deep attachment for her. He 
even took her hand. On her part she grew more 
open and communicative at every step, and Shorty 
had no difficulty in understanding that there was 
gathered around her a gang that was practicing 
about everything detrimental to the army. They 
were by turns spies, robbers, murderers, whisky 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


189 


smugglers, horse-thieves, and anything else that 
promised a benefit to themselves. Ostensibly they 
were rebels, but this did n6t prevent their preying 
upon the rebels when occasion offered. Some were 
deserters from the rebel army, some were evading 



''she whipped out a long knife."' 


the conscript laws, two or three were deserters 
from our army. 

Shorty and the woman had reached a point 
nearly a half-mile outside of the guard-line when 
he stopped and said: 

"I can't go no farther now. I must go back." 

"Why must yo' go back?" she demanded, with a 


190 


SI KLEGG. 


sudden angry suspicion. “I thought yo’ wuz gwine 
right along with me.” 

‘‘Why, no. I never thought o’ that. I must go 
back and get my things before I go with you,” said 
Shorty, as the readiest way of putting her off. 

“Plague take y’r things,” she said. “Let ’em go. 
Yo’ kin git plenty more jest as good from the next 
Yankee camp. Yo’ slip back some night with the 
boys an’ git yo’r own things, if y’r so dratted stuck 
on ’em. Come along now.” 

She took hold of his wrist with a grip like iron. 
Shorty had no idea that a woman could have such 
strength. 

“I want to go back and git my partner,” said 
Shorty. “Me and him ’ve bin together all the time 
we’ve bin in the army. He’ll go along with me, 
I’m sure. Me and him thinks alike on everything, 
and what one starts the other jines in. I want to 
go back an’ git him.” 

“I don’t like that partner o’ your’n. I don’t want 
him. I’ll be a better partner t’ yo’ than ever he was. 
Yo’ mustn’t think more o’ him than yo’ do o’ me.” 

“Look here, Sophrony,” said Shorty desperately, 
“I cannot an’ will not go with you to-night. I’m 
expectin’ important letters from home to-morrow, 
and I must go back an’ git ’em. I’ve a thousand 
things to do before I go away. Have some sense. 
This thing’s bin sprung on me so suddenly that it 
ketches me unawares.” 

With the quickness of a flash she whipped out a 
long knife from somewhere, and raised it, and 
then hesitated a second. 

“I believe yo’re foolin’ me, and if I wuz shore I’d 


THE JEW SPY WRITES. 


191 


stick yo\ But I'm gwine t' give yo' a chance. Yo' 
kin go back now, an' I'll come for yo' ter-morrer. 
If you go back on me hit'll be a mouty sorry day 
for yo'. Mind that now." 

Shorty gallantly helped her mount, and then hur- 
ried back to camp. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE — WITH SI HE GOES OUT 
TO VISIT MRS. BOLSTER. 

S HORTY sauntered thoughtfully back to the 
tent, and on the way decided to tell Si the 
whole* occurrence, not even omitting the de- 
ceit practiced. 

He had to admit to himself that he was unaccount- 
ably shaken up by the affair. 

Si was so deeply interested in the revelations that 
he forgot to blame Shorty's double-dealing. 

'‘Never had my nerve so strained before," Shorty 
frankly admitted. “At their best, women are curi- 
ouser than transmogrified hullaloos, and when a real 
cute one sets out to hornswoggle a man he might as 
well lay down and give right up, for he hain't no 
earthly show. She gits away with him every time, 
and one to spare. That there woman's got the 
devil in her bigger'n a sheep, and she come nigher 
makin' putty o' your Uncle Ephraim than I ever 
dreamed of before. It makes me shivery to think 
about it." 

“I don't care if she's more devils in her than 
the Gadarene swine, she must be stopped at once," 
said Si, his patriotic zeal flaming up. “She's doin' 
more mischief than a whole regiment o' rebels, and 
must be busted immediately. We've got to stop 
her." 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


193 


“But just how are we goin’ to stop her?” Shorty 
asked. There was a weak unreadiness in Shorty’s 
tones that made Si look at him in surprise. Never 
before, in any emergency, had there been the slight- 
est shade of such a thing in his bold, self-reliant 
partner’s voice. 

“I’d rather tackle any two men there are in the 
Southern Confederacy than that woman,” said 
Shorty. “I believe she put a spell on me.” 

“Le’s go up and talk to Capt. McGillicuddy about 
it,” said Si. Ordinarily, this was the last thing that 
either of them would have thought of doing. Their 
usual disposition was to go ahead and settle the prob- 
lem before them in their own way, and report about 
it afterward. But Shorty was clearly demoralized. 

Capt. McGillicuddy listened very gravely to their 
story. 

“Evidently that old hen has a nest of bad, danger- 
ous men, which has to be broken up,” he said. “We 
can get the whole raft if we go about it in the right 
way, but we’ve got to be mighty smart in dealing 
with them, or they’ll fly the coop, and leave the 
laugh on us. You say she’s coming back to-mor- 
row?” 

“Yes,” said Shorty, with a perceptible shiver. 

“Well, I want you to fall right in with all her 
plans — both of you. Pretend to be anxious to de- 
sert, or anything else that she may propose. Go 
back home with her. I shall watch you carefully, 
but without seeming to, and follow you with a squad 
big enough to take care of anything that may be 
out there. Go back to your tent now, and think it 


194 


SI KLEGG. 


all over, and arrange some signal to let me know 
when you want me to jump the outfit.’' 

The boys went back to their tent, and spent an 
hour in anxious consideration of their plans. Si saw 
the opportunity to render a great service, and was 
eager to perform it, but he firmly refused to tell any 
lies to the woman or those around her. He would 
not say that he was tired of the service and wanted 
to desert ; he would not pretend liking for the South- 
ern Confederacy or the rebels, nor hatred to his 
own people. He would do nothing but go along, 
share all the dangers with Shorty, and be ready at 
the moment to co-operate in breaking up the gang. 

''Some folks’s so durned straight that they lean 
over backwards,” said Shorty impatiently. "What 
in thunder does it amount to what you tell these 
onery gallinippers ? They’ll lie to you as fast as a 
boss kin trot. There’s no devilment they won’t do, 
and there kin be nothin’ wrong in anything you kin 
do and say to them.” 

"Everybody settles some things for himself,” said 
the unchangeable Si. "I believe them folks are as 
bad as they kin be made. I believe every one o’ 
’em ought to be killed, and if it wuz orders to kill 
’em I’d kill without turnin’ a hair. But I jest simply 
won’t lie to nobody, I don’t care who he is. I’ll stand 
by you until the last drop ; you kin tell ’em what you 
please, but I won’t tell ’em nothin’, except that 
they’re a pizen gang, and ought t’ve bin roastin’ in 
brimstone long ago.” 

"But,” expostulated Shorty, "if you only go along 
with me you’re actin’ a lie. If you go out o’ camp 
with me you’ll pretend to be desertin’ and j’inin’ in 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


195 


with 'em. Seems to me that's jest as bad as tellin' 
a lie straight put." 

‘‘Well," said the immovable Si, “I draw the line 
there. I'll go along with you, and they kin think 
what they like. But if I say anything to 'em, they'll 
git it mighty straight." 

“Well, I don't know but, after all, we kin better 
arrange it that way," said Shorty, after he had 
thought it over in silence for some time. “I'm sure 
that if you'd talk you'd give us dead away. That 
clumsy basswood tongue o' your'n hain't any supple- 
ness, and you'd be sure to blurt out something that'd 
jest ruin us. An idee occurs to me. You jest go 
along, look sour and say nothin'. I'll tell 'em you 
ketched cold the other night and lost your speech. 
It'll give me a turn o' extra dooty talkin' for two, 
but I guess I kin do it." 

“All right," agreed Si. “Let it go that way." 

“Now, look here. Si," said Shorty, in a low, mys- 
terious tone, “I'm goin' to tell you somethin' that I 
hadn’t intended to. I'm scared to death lest that 
old hag’ll git the drop on me some way and marry 
me right out of hand. I tell you, she jest frightens 
the life out o' me. That worries me more’n all the 
rest put together. I expect I ought t ’v’ told you 
so at the very first." 

“Nonsense," said Si contemptuously. “The idee 
o' you're being afeared o' such a thing." 

“It’s all very well for you to snort and laugh. Si 
Klegg," persisted Shorty. “You don’t know her. I 
sneered at her, too, at first, but when I was left 
alone with her she seemed to mesmerize me. I found 
myself talkin' about marryin' her before I knowed 


196 


SI KLEGG. 


it, and the next thing I was on the p’int o’ actually 
marry in^ her. I believe that if she’d got me to walk 
a half-mile further with her she’d a run me up agin 
a Justice o’ the Peace and married me in spite of 
all that I could do. I’d much ruther have my head 
blowed off than married to that old catamount. 

“Bah, you can’t marry folks unless both are 
willin’,” insisted Si. “A man can’t have a marriage 
rung in on him willy-nilly.” 

“There’s just where you’re shootin’ off your 
mouth without any sense. You don’t know what 
you’re talkin’ about. Men are lassoed every day 
and married to women that they’d run away from 
like a dog from a porcupine, if they could. You 
jest look around among the married folks you 
know, and see how many there are that wouldn’t 
have .married one another if they’d bin in their 
senses.” 

“Well, I don’t think o’ many,” said Si, whose re- 
membrances were that the people in Posey County 
seemed generally well-mated! 

“Well, there mayn’t be many, but there’s some, and 
I don’t propose to be one of ’em. There’s some 
spell or witchcraft about it. I’ve read in books 
about things that gave a woman power to marry 
any man she wanted to, and he couldn’t help him- 
self. That woman’s got something o’ that kind, and 
she’s set her eye on me. I’m goin’ to meet her, 
and I want to help break up her gang, but I’d 
a great deal rather tackle old Bragg and his entire 
army. I want you to stay right by me every min- 
nit, and keep your eye on me, when she’s near me.” 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


197 


“All right/’ said Si sleepily, as he crawled into 
bed. 

The next morning, as they were discussing the 
question of signals, they happened to pass the Sut- 
ler’s, and Si caught a glimpse of packages of fire- 
crackers, which the regimental purveyor had, for 
some inscrutable reason, thought he might sell. An 
idea occurred to Si, and he bought a couple of 
packages, and stowed them away in his blouse pocket 
and told the Captain that their firing would be the 
signal, unless a musket-shot should come first. 

It was yet early in the forenoon as they walked 
on the less-frequented side of the camp. Shorty 
gave a start, and gasped: 

“Jewhilikins, there she is already.” 

Si looked, and saw Mrs. Bolster striding toward 
them. Shorty hung back instinctively for an in- 
stant, and then braced up and bade her good morn- 
ing. 

She grunted an acknowledgment, and said rather 
imperiously : 

“Y’re a-gwine, air yo’?” 

“Certainly,” answered Shorty. 

“And yo’?” she inquired, looking at Si. 

“He’s a-goin’, too,” answered Shorty. “Mustn’t 
expect him to talk. He’s short on tongue this morn- 
in’. Ketched a bad cold night before last. Settled 
on his word-mill. Unjinted his clapper. Can’t 
speak a word. Doctor says it will last several days. 
Not a great affliction. Couldn’t ’ve lost anything o’ 
less account.” 

“Must’ve bin an orful cold,” said she, taking her 
pipe from her mouth and eyeing Si suspiciously. 


198 


SI KLEGG. 


“Never knowed a cold to shut off any one’s gab 
afore. Seems t’ me that hit makes people talk 
more. But these Yankees aid different. Whar air 
yer things? Did yo’ bring plenty o’ coffee?” 

“We’ve got ’em hid down here in the brush,” 
said Shorty. “We’ll git ’em when we’re ready to 
start.” 

“We’re ready now,” she answered. “Come along.” 

“But we hain’t no passes,” objected Shorty. “We 
must go to the Captain and git passes.” 

“Yo’ won’t need no passes,” she said impatiently. 
“Foller me.” 

Shorty had expected to make the pretext about 
the passes serve for informing Capt. McGillicuddy 
of the presence ’ of the woman in the camp. He 
looked quickly around and saw the Captain saunter- 
ing carelessly at a little distance, so that any notifi- 
cation was unnecessary. He turned and followed 
Mrs. Bloster’s long strides, with Si bringing up the 
rear. 

They went to the clump of brush where they, had 
hidden their haversacks and guns. Mrs. Bolster 
eagerly examined the precious package of coffee. 

“I’ll take keer o’ this myself,” she said, stowing 
it away about her lanky person. “I can’t afford to 
take no resks as to hit.” 

Si and Shorty had thought themselves very famil- 
iar with the campground, but they were astonished 
to find themselves led outside the line without pass- 
ing under the eye of a single guard. Si looked at 
Shorty in amazement, and Shorty remarked: 

“Well, I’ll be durned.” 

The woman noticed and understood. “Yo’ Yanks,” 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


199 


she said scornfully, “think yourselves moughty 
smart with all your book-lamin', and yo'uns put on 
heaps o' airs over po' folks what hain't no eddica- 
tion; but what you don't know about Tennessee 
woods would make a bigger book than ever was 
printed." 

“I believe you," said Shorty fervently. His su- 
perstition in regard to her was rapidly augmenting 
to that point where he believed her capable of any- 
thing. He was alarmed about Capt. McGillicuddy's 
being able to follow their mysterious movements. 
But they soon came to the road, and looking back 
from the top of a hill. Shorty's heart lightened as 
he saw a squad moving out which he was confident 
was led by Capt. McGillicuddy. 

But little had been said so far. At a turn of the 
road they came upon a gray-bearded man, wearing 
a battered silk hat and spectacles, whom Mrs. Bolster 
greeted as “ 'Squire." 

The word seemed to send all the blood from 
Shorty's face, and he looked appealingly to Si as if 
the crisis had come. 

The newcomer looked them over sharply and in- 
quired : 

“Who are these men, Mrs. Bolster?" 

“They'uns 's all right. They'uns 's had enough 
o' Abolition doin's, and hev come over whar they- 
'uns allers rayly belonged. This one is a partickler 
friend o' mine," and she leered at Shorty in a way 
that made his blood run cold. 

“Hain't yo' time t' stop a minute, 'Squire?" she 
asked appealingly, as the newcomer turned his 
horse's head to renew his journey. 


200 


SI KLEGG. 


‘‘Not now ; not now” answered the ’Squire, digging 
his heels into his steed’s side. “I want to talk t’ yo’ 
and these ’ere men ’bout what’s gwine on in the Lin- 
coln camps, but I must hurry on now to meet Capt. 
Solomon at the Winding Blades. I’ll come over to 
your house this evening,” he called back. 

“Don’t fail, ’Squire,” she answered, “fur I’ve got 
a little job for yo’, an’ I want hit partickerly done 
this very evenin’. Hit can’t wait.” 

“I’ll be there without fail,” he assured her. 

“Capt. Solomon’s the man what sent the letter 
to you,” she explained, which somewhat raised 
Shorty’s depressed heart, for he began to have hopes 
that Rosenbaum might rescue him if Capt. McGilli- 
cuddy should be behind time. 

As they jogged onward farther from camp Mrs. 
Bolster’s saturnine earnestness began to be succeed- 
ed by what were intended to be demonstrations of 
playful affection for her future husband, whom she 
now began to regard as securely hers. She would 
draw Shorty into the path a little ahead of Si, and 
walk alongside of him, pinching his arm and jabber- 
ing incoherent words which were meant for terms- of 
endearment. When the narrowness of the road made 
them walk in single file she would come up from 
time to time alongside with cuffs intended for play- 
ful love-taps. 

At each of these Shorty would cast such a look of 
wretchedness at Si that the latter had difficulty in 
preserving Iiis steadfast silence and rigidity of coun- 
tenance. 

But the woman’s chief affection seemed to be 
called forth by the package of coffee. She would 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


201 


stop in the midst of any demonstration to pull out 
the bag containing the fragrant berry, and lovingly 
inhale its odor. 

It was long past noon when she announced : 
“Thar's my house right ahead." She followed this 
up with a ringing whoopee, which made the tumble- 
down cabin suddenly swarm with animation. A 
legion of loud-mouthed dogs charged down toward 
the road. Children of various ages, but of no variety 
in their rags and unkempt wildness, followed the 
dogs, or perched upon the fence-corners and stumps, 
and three or four shambling, evil-faced mountaineers 
lunged forward, guns in hand, with eyes fiercer 
than the dogs, as they looked over the two armed 
soldiers. 

“They’uns is all right, boys," exclaimed the wom- 
an. “They'uns 's plum sick o' doggin' hit for Abe 
Lincoln an' quit." 

“Let 'em gin up thar guns, then," said the fore- 
most man, who had but one eye, reaching for 
Shorty's musket. “I'll take this one. I've been 
longin' for a good Yankee gun for a plum month to 
reach them Yankee pickets on Duck River." 

Though Shorty and Si had schooled themselves in 
the part .they were to play, the repugnant thought 
of giving up their arms to the rebels threatened to 
overset everything. Instinctively they threw up 
their guns to knock over the impudent guerrillas. 
The woman strode between them and the others, and 
caught hold of their muskets. 

“Don't be fools. Let 'em have your guns," she 
said, and she caught Si's with such quick unexpected- 
ness that she wrenched it from his grasp and fiung 


202 


SI KLEGG. 


it to the man who wanted Shorty’s. She threw 
one arm around Shorty’s neck, with a hug so muscu- 
lar that his breath failed, and she wrenched his 
gun away. She kept this in her hand, however. 

“Now, I want these ’ere men treated right,” she 
announced to the others, “and I’m a-gwine to have 
’em treated right, or I’ll bust somebody’s skillet. 
They’uns is my takings, and I’m a-gwine to have all 
the say ’bout ’em. I’ve never interfered with any 
Yankees any o’ yo’uns have brung in. Yo’ve done 
with them as you pleased, an’ I’m a-gwine to do 
with these jest as I please, and yo’uns that don’t 
like hit kin jest lump hit, that’s all.” 

“ ’Frony Bolster, I want yo’ to take yo’r arms from 
around that Yank’s neck,” said the man who had 
tried to take Shorty’s gun. “I won’t ’low yo’ to 
put yo’r arm ’round another man’s neck as long’s I’m 
alive to stop it.” 

“Ye won’t, Jeff Hackberry,” she sneered. “Jeal- 
ous, air ye? You’ve got no bizniss o’ bein’. Done 
tole ye ’long ago I’d never marry yo’, so long as I 
could find a man who has two good eyes and a 
’spectable character. I’ve done found him. Here 
he is, and ’Squire Corson ’ll splice us to-night.” 

How much of each of the emotions of jealousy, dis- 
appointment, hurt vanity, and rebel antagonism 
went into the howl that Mr. Jeff Hackberry set up 
at this announcement will never be known. He made 
a rush with clenched fists at Shorty. 

A better description could be given of the opera- 
tions of the center of a tornado than of the events 
of the next few minutes. Shorty and Hackberry 
grappled fiercely. Mrs. Bolster mixed in to stop 


SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE. 


203 


the fight and save Shorty. Si and the other three 
rebels flung themselves into the whirlpool of strikes, 
kicks, and grapples. The delighted children came 
rushing in, and eagerly joined the fray, striking 



with charming impartiality at every opportunity to 
get a lick in anywhere on anybody; and finally the 
legion of dogs, to whom such scenes seemed familiar 
and gladsome, rushed in with an ear-splitting clam- 
or, and jumped and bit at the arms and legs that 
went flying around. 


2^4 


SI KLEGG. 


This was too violent to last long. Everybody and 
everything had to stop from sheer exhaustion. But 
when the stop came Mrs. Bolster was sitting on the 
prostrate form of Jeff Hackberry. The others were 
disentangling themselves from one another, the chil- 
dren and the dogs, and apparently trying to get them- 
selves into relation with the points of the compass 
and understand what had been happening. 

“Have yo’ had enough, Jeff Hackberry,'' inquired 
Mrs. Bolster, “or will yo' obleege me to gouge yer 
other eye out afore yo' come to yer senses ?" 

“Le' me up, 'Frony," pleaded the man, “an' then we 
kin talk this thing over." 


/ 


CHAPTER XV. 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED — BREAKING UP A BAD 
REBEL NEST IS NO PICNIC. 

W HEN physical exhaustion called a halt in 
the fracas, Mrs. Bolster was seated on 
Jeff Hackberry’s breast with her sinewy 
hands clutching his long hair, and her thumb, with 
a cruel, long nail, pressing the ball of his one good 
eye. Shorty was holding down one of the guerrillas 
who had tried to climb on his back when he was 
grappling with Hackberry. Si had knocked one 
guerrilla senseless with his gun-barrel, and now 
came to a breathless standstill in a struggle with an- 
other for the possession of his gun. The children 
and dogs had broken up into several smaller storm- 
centers, in each of which a vicious fight was going 
on. In some it was dog and dog; in some child and 
child, and in others dogs and children mixed. 

Then they all halted to observe the outcome of 
the discussion between Mrs. Bolster and Jeff Hack- 
berry. 

''Holler 'nuff, Jeff, or out goes yer last light,'' com- 
manded Mrs. Bolster, emphasizing her words by 
rising a little, and then settling down on Jeff's breast 
with a force that drove near every spoonful of 
breath out of him. 

" 'Frony, le' me up," he begged in gasps. 


206 


SI KLEGG. 


“Mrs. Bolster/’ she reminded him, with another 
jounce upon his chest. 

“Mrs. Bolster, le’ me up. I’d ’a’ got away with 
that ’ere Yank ef ye’ hedn’t tripped me with them 
long legs o’ your’n.” 

“I’m right smart on the trip, aint I,” she grinned. 
“I never seed a man yit that I couldn’t throw in any 
sort of a rastle.” 

“Le’ me up, Mrs. Bolster, an le’s begin over agin, 
an’ yo’ keep out,” begged Hackberry. 

“Not much I won’t. I ain’t that kind of a chicken,” 
she asserted with another jounce. “When I down 
a man I down him fer good, an’ he never gifs up 
agin ’till he caves entirely. If I let yo’ up, will yo’ 
swar to quile down peaceable as a lamb, an’ make 
the rest do the same?” 

“Never,” asserted Hackberry. “I’m ergwine to 
have it out with that Yank.” 

“No you haint,” she replied with a still more em- 
phatic jounce that made Hackberry use all the 
breath left him to groan. 

“I’ll quile,” he said, with his next instalment of 
atmosphere. 

Will yo’ agree t’ let me marry this Yank, an’ t’ 
give me away as my oldest friend, nearest o’ kin, an’ 
best man?” she inquired, rising sufficiently to let 
him take in a full breath and give a free, unforced 
answer. 

“Nary a time,” he shrieked. “I’ll die .fust, afore 
I’ll ’low yo’ t’ marry ary other man but me.” 

“Then you’ll lose yer blinker, yo’ pigheaded, lik- 
ker-guzzling’, ornery, no-account sand-hill crane,” 
she said, viciously coming down on his chest with 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


207 


her full weight and sticking the point of hei nail 
against his eye. “I wouldn’t marry yo’ if ye wuz the 
last nubbin’ in the Lord A’mighty’s crib, and t har’d 
never be another crap o’ men. Ye’ll never git no 
chance to make me yer slave, and beat me and starve 



me t’ death as yo’ did Nance Brill. I ain’t gwine t’ 
fool with yer pervarsity nary a minnit longer. Say 
this instant whether yo’ll do as I say with a free 
will and good heart, or out goes yer peeper.” 

“I promise,” groaned Jeff. 


208 


SI KLEGG. 


“Yo’ sw’ar hit?” she demanded. 

"‘Yes, I sw’ar hit,” answered Jeff. 

Mrs. Bolster rose, and confirmed the contract by 
giving him a kick in the side with her heavy brogan. 

‘That's jest a lovetap,” she remarked, “f let yo' 
know t' le’ me alone hereafter. Now, le’s straighten 
things around here fer a pleasant time.” 

She initiated her proposed era of good feeling by 
a sounding kick in the ribs of the most obstreperous 
of the dogs, and a slap on the face of a 12-year-old 
girl, who was the noisest and most pugnacious of 
the lot. Each of these set up a howl, but there was a 
general acquiescence in her assertion of authority. 

Jeff Hackberry sat up, scratched and rubbed him- 
self, seemed to be trying to once more get a full 
supply of air in his lungs, and turned a one-eyed 
glare on his surroundings. The guerrilla whom Si 
had knocked down began to show signs of returning 
consciousness, but no one paid any attention to him. 
One of the other two pulled out a piece of tobacco, 
split it in two, put the bigger half in his mouth and 
handed the remainder to his partner. Both began 
chewing meditatively and looking with vacant eyes 
for the next act in the drama. Shorty regained his 
gun, and he and Si looked inquiringly at one an- 
other and the mistress of the ranch. 

“Come on up t' the house,” she said, starting in 
that direction. The rest followed, with Si and 
Shorty in the lead. 

The boys gazed around them with strong curiosity. 
The interior was like that of the other log cabins 
they had seen — a rough puncheon floor for the single 
room, a fireplace as big as a barn door, built of rough 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


209 


stones, with a hearth of undressed flat stones, upon 
which sat a few clumsy cooking utensils of heavy 
cast-iron, three-legged stools for chairs, a table of 
rough whip-sawed boards held together by wooden 
pins. In two of the corners were beds made of a 
layer of poles resting upon a stick supported at one 
end upon a log in the wall and at the other end a 
forked stick driven between the puncheons into the 
ground below. Upon this was a pile of beech leaves 
doing duty as a mattress. The bed-clothes were a 
mass of ragged fabrics, sheepskins, etc., used in the 
daytime for saddle-blankets and at night upon the 
bed. There had been added to them, however, look- 
ing particularly good and rich in contrast with their 
squalor, several blankets with '‘U. S.’' marked upon 
them. Around the room were canteens, shoes, and 
other soldier belongings. 

‘‘Have they killed and robbed the men to whoni 
these belonged, or merely traded whisky for them?’' 
was the thought that instantly flashed through Si’s 
and Shorty’s minds. The answer seemed to be fav- 
orable to murder and robbery. “Set down an’ make 
yourselves at home. I’ll git yo’ out suthin’ t’ wet yer 
whistles,” said Mrs. Bolster, wreathing as much 
graciousness as she could into her weathered-wood 
countenance. She apparently kicked at the same in- 
stant a stool toward them with her left foot, and a 
dog out of the way with her right, a performance 
that excited Shorty’s admiration. 

“When I see a woman kick in different directions 
with both feet at the same time, I understood how 
dangerous her trip would be in a rastle,” he said 

afterward. 

8 


210 


SI KLEGG. 


Si and Shorty shoved two of the stools so that they 
could sit with their backs to the wall, still holding 
their guns. 

The guerrillas came filing in, with an expectant 
look on their faces. Even Jeff Hackberry looked 
more thirstily longing than wrathful. The man who 
had fallen under Si^s gunbarrel had gotten able to 
walk, was rubbing his head and moaning with the 
design of attracting attention and sympathy. 

Mrs. Bolster produced a key from her pocket. The 
others understood what this meant. They lifted 
aside some sacks of meal and shelled com, and re- 
vealed a puncheon which had been cut in two, and 
the short piece was garnished by rude iron hinges 
and hasp, all probably taken from some burned barn. 
The hasp was locked into the staple by one of the 
heavy padlocks customary on the plantations, and 
this Mr. Bolster proceeded to open with her key. 
When the puncheon was turned up it revealed a pit 
beneath, from which she lifted a large jug of whisky. 
She poured some out in a tin cup and handed it to 
Shorty. 

'‘Take a big swig,” she said; “hit’s mouty good 
stuff — ole Jeff Thompson’s brewin’ from yaller corn 
raised on rich bottom land.” 

Si trembled as he saw his partner take the cup. 
Shorty smelled it appreciatively. “That is good 
stuff,” he said. “Roses aint nowhere alongside.” 

He put the cup to his lips and took a sip. 

“Tastes as good as it smells,” he Tsaid, heartily, 
while the mouths of the guerrillas were watering. 
He put the cup again to his lips, as if to take a deep 
draft. Then came a short cough and a tremendous 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


211 


sputter, followed by more painful coughing and 
strangling. 

‘‘Jest my infernal luck,’' gasped Shorty. “I would 
talk, an’ I got some down the wrong way. “Lord, 
it’s burnin’ my lights out. Gi’ me a drink o’ water, 
somebody.’' 

One of the children handed him a gourdful of 
water, while he continued to cough and sputter and 
blame himself for talking when he was drinking. 

The woman handed the cup to Si, who feared that 
the liquor might be poisoned or drugged. He made 
a pretense of drinking, and then handed the cup 
back, making motions that his throat was so sore 
that he could not drink much. Mrs. Bolster looked 
at him suspiciously, but the clamor of the guerillas 
distracted her attention, and she turned to supply 
them. 

“No, Jeff Hackberry,” she said firmly, “yo’ can’t 
have more’n two fingers. I know yo’ of old, an’ jest 
how much yo’ orter tote. Two fingers’ll make yo’ 
comfortable an’ sociable; three’ll raise the devil in 
yo,’ an’ four’ll make yo’ dancin’ drunk, when yo’ll 
have t’ be held down. Yo’ll have jest two fingers, 
an’ not a drap more.” 

“Jest another finger, ’Frony. Remember, yo’ve 
bin orful rough on me, an’ I need more. I’ll prom- 
ise t’ be good,” pleaded Hackberry. 

“No, not a drap more’n two fingers now. If yo’ 
behave yo’self I’ll give yo’ another two fingers by- 
an’-by.” 

“Hackberry swallowed his portion at a thirsty 
gulp and sat down on the door-sill to let it do its 
invigorating work. The other two guerrillas were 


212 


SI KLEGG. 


given each two fingers, and the man whom Si 
knocked down had his moanings rewarded by three 
fingers and a liberal application in addition to the 
wound on his head, which he declared was much re- 
lieved by it. 

''Set your guns up agin the wall an' ack nacherul," 
commanded Mrs. Bolster. "Nobody’s a-gwine to 
hurt yo’. The ’Squire’ll be here soon, we’ll git 
spliced, an’ have a good time all around.” 

The noisy barking of the dogs announced the ap- 
proach of someone. 

"Lord, I hope that’s ’Squire Corson,” said Mrs. 
Bolster, running eagerly to the door. "If hit’s him, 
we kin go right ahead with the weddin’.” 

"If that’s the ’Squire,” said Shorty, in a low whis- 
per, without turning his head, "we’ll grab our guns 
and fight to the death. We may clean out this gang.” 

Si’s attention had been in the meanwhile attracted 
to some boxes concealed under the beds, and his cur- 
iosity was aroused as to what such unusual things in 
a cabin might contain. 

"No ; hit’s Capt. Sol. Simmons,” said she in a tone 
of disappointment mixed with active displeasure. 
"Now, he’ll be cavortin’ and tearin’ around, and 
wantin’ t’ kill somebody. I wish he wuz whar hit’s a 
good deal hotter.” 

She came over to where the boys were sitting, and 
said jn a low tone : 

"This man’s allers makin’ trouble, an’ he’s bad 
from his boots up. Keep a stiff upper lip, both on 
yo’, an’ we’ll try t’ manage him. Don’t weaken. 
Hit’ll do no good. He’ll be wuss’n ever then.” 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


213 


Si and Shorty instinctively felt for the revolvers in 
their pockets. 

The newcomer tied his horse to a sapling and 
strode into the house. The guerrillas seemed rather 
more fearful than otherwise to see him, but met him 
with manners that were ranged from respectful by 
Jeff Hackberry to absolute servility by the others. 
He was a burly, black-bearded man, wearing a fair- 
ly-good uniform of a rebel Captain. His face showed 
that he was a bully, and a cruel one. 

He acknowledged in an overbearing way the greet- 
ings of the others, and called out imperiously: 

Trony, gi' me a stiff dram o' yer best at wunst. 
My throat's drier'n a lime-kiln. Bin ridin' all morn- 
in'." 

“Folks wantin' likker don't say must t' me, but 
will yo', an' please," she answered sulkily. 

“ 'Must,' 'please,' yo' hag," he said savagely. 
''Talk that a-way to me. I'll 'please' yo'. I've killed 
two Yankees this mornin', an' I'm not in the humor 
to fool around with an old pennyroyal huzzy like yo'. 
Gi' me some whisky at wunst, or I'll baste yo'." 

If ever Mrs. Bolster had been favorably disposed 
to him, she could not endure to have him treat her 
this way before Shorty. She would assert herself 
before him if ever. 

She put her arms akimbo and retorted vigorously : 

''Nary drap o' likker yo'll git from me, Sol. Sim- 
mons. Go and git yer likker whar y're welcome. 
Y're not welcome here. I don't keer if yo' have 
killed two Yankees or 20 Yankees. Y're allers talkin' 
about killin' Yankees, but nobody never sees none 
that y've killed. I'm a better Confederit than yo' 


214 


SI KLEGG. 


ever dared be. Fm doin’ more for the Southern Con- 
fedrisy. Y’re allers a-blowin’ while I’m allers a- 
doin.’ Everybody knows that. Talk about the two 
Yankees y’ve killed, an’ which nobody’s seed, here 
I’ve brung two Yankees right outen their camps, an’ 
have ’em to show. More’n that, they’re gwine to 
jine we’uns.” 

She indicated the two boys with a wave of her 
hand. Simmons seemed to see them for the first 
time. 

“Yankees here, an’ yo’ haint killed ’em,” he yelled. 
He put his hand to his revolver and stepped forward. 
The two boys jumped up and snatched their guns, 
but before another move could be made Mrs. Bol- 
ster’s unfailing trip brought Simmons heavily to the 
floor, with his revolver half out the holster. In an 
instant she sat down heavily upon him, and laid her 
brawny hand upon his pistol. The dogs and children 
gathered around in joyous expectation of a renewal 
of general hostilities. But the dogs broke away at 
the scent or sight of someone approaching. 

“Mebbe that’s ’Squire Corson,” said Mrs. Bolster 
with a renewed flush of pleasant anticipation. 

Instead, a rather good-looking young rebel officer 
wearing a Major’s silver stars dismounted from his 
horse and, followed by two men, entered the cabin. 

“Hello, Simmons,” said the Major in a tone of 
strong rebuke as soon as he entered. “What in the 
world are you doing here ? Is this the way you carry 
out the General’s orders? You’re at your old tricks 
again. You were sent out here early this morning, 
to capture or drive away that Yankee picket at Rac- 
coon Ford, so as to let Capt. Gillen come through 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


215 


with his pack-mules. I expected to meet him here 
and go on with him. Your men have been waiting at 
the crossroads for you since daylight, while you’ve 
been loitering around the rear. I ought to have you 
shot, and you would be if I reported this to the Gen- 
eral. You skulking whelp, you ought to be shot. 
But I’ll give you one more chance. It may not be too 
late yet. Break for your place as fast as you can, 
and take these whelps with you. I’ll wait here till 
sundown for you. If you don’t report back to me by 
that time you’d better make your will. Jump now.” 

Mrs. Bolster had let go of Simmons as this ex- 
ordium proceeded, or she felt that he was in good 
hands. 

As they disappeared the Major turned to Mrs. Bol- 
ster and inquired : 

'‘Did Capt. Gillen get through with that quinine 
and guncaps?”- 

“They’re thar,” she said, pointing to the boxes un- 
der the beds. 

“Very good. I’ve brought some men to take them 
away. We need them very badly. Who are these 
men ?” 

Mrs. Bolster told her story about how they were 
tired of the Abolition war, and had yielded to her 
persuasions to join the Southern army. 

The Major looked them over sharply, and began a 
close cross-questioning as to where they were born, 
what regiment they belonged to, how long they had 
been in the service, what battles they had been en- 
gaged in and on what part of the field, where their 
regiment now was, its brigade, division and corps, 
commanders, etc., etc. 


216 


SI KLEGG. 


As Shorty did not see any present occasion for 
lying, he had no trouble in telling a convincing, 
straightforward story. Si successfully worked the 
loss-of -voice racket, and left the burden of conversa- 
tion to his partner. 

The Major seemed satisfied, and said at the con- 
clusion : 

‘‘Very good. I’ll take you back with me when I 
return, and place you in a good regiment.” 

This was a new and startling prospect, which, was 
almost too much for Shorty’s self-control. For a 
minute he had wild thoughts of assassinating the 
Major then and there, and making a run for life. 
But he decided to wait a little longer and see what 
would develop. 

If Mrs. Bolster’s hue had permitted she would 
have turned pale at this threatened loss of a husband 
and upsetting of all her plans. She merely gulped 
down a lump in her throat and seemed to be think- 
ing. 

She became very attentive to the Major, and 
brought for his edification a private bottle of fine 
old whisky. She set about preparing something for 
them to eat. 

Again the dogs barked, and in walked a man 
dressed in the fatigue uniform of a Union soldier 
with the chevrons of a Sergeant. The boys gave a 
start of surprise, and a great one when they saw on 
his cap: 

A 

200 Ind. Vols. 

Si would have sprung up to greet him, but Shorty 
laid a restraining hand, and whispered : 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


217 


‘'He don't belong to our regiment." 

A second glance satisfied Si of this. While it is 
hardly possibly for a man to know every other man 
in his regiment, yet in a little while there comes 
something which enables him to know whether any 
man he meets does or does not belong to his regi- 
ment. 

The Major and Mrs. Bolster instantly recognized 
the newcomer. 

“Awful glad to see you, Tuggers," said the Major, 
rising and shaking his hand. “Did you get through 
without any trouble?" 

“Not a bit o' trouble, thanks to you and Mrs. Bol- 
ster here. She got me this uniform and this cap," 
said Tuggers, taking off the latter article and scan- 
ning the lettering. “Rather more brass than I'm in 
the habit of carrying on top of my head, no matter 
how much I have in my face. I got your not giv- 
ing me the positions of the Yankee regiments, for 
which I suppose we must also thank Mrs. Bolster. I 
found them all correct. As the 200th Ind. was the 
farthest out, I had no difficulty getting through the 
rest of them by saying that I was on my way to my 
regiment. Of course, I didn't come through the 
camp of the 200th Ind., but modestly sought a by- 
road which Mrs. Bolster had put me onto. I've got 
a lot of important letters from the mail in Nashville, 
among which are some letters for the General, which 
I am told are highly important. I'm mighty glad to 
be able to place them in your hands, and relieve 
myself of the responsibility. Here they are. Thanks, 
I don't care if I do, since you press me so hard," 


218 


SI KLEGG. 


said he, without change of voice, as he handed over 
the letters and picked up the bottle and tin cup. 

“Excuse me. Tuggers, for not asking you before,” 
said the Major. “I was so interested in you and 
your letters I forgot for the moment that you might 
be thirsty. Help yourself.” 

“I didn't forget it,” said Tuggers, pouring out a 
liberal dram. “Here’s to our deserving selves and 
our glorious Cause.” 

A shy girl of about eight had responded to Si’s 
persistent encouragement, and sidled up to him, ex- 
amining his buttons and accouterments. Si gave 
her some buttons he had in his pocket, and showed 
her his knife and other trinkets in his pockets. The 
other children began to gather around, much inter- 
ested in the elaborate dumb show he was making of 
his inability to speak. 

Again the dogs barked. Mrs. Bolster ran to the 
door. “Hit’s ’Squire Corson,” she exclaimed joy- 
ously, and hustled around to make extra prepara- 
tions for his entertainment. 

The ’Squire entered, mopping his face with his 
bandana, and moving with the deliberation and dig- 
nity consistent with his official position. 

He looked at the boys with a severe, judicial eye, 
and gave the ominous little cough with which he was 
wont to precede sentences. But he recognized the 
Major and Tuggers, and immediately his attention 
wa& centered in them. They were connected with 
Army Headquarters ; they were repositories of news 
which he could spread among his constituents. He 
greeted them effusively, and was only too glad to 
accept their invitation to sit down and drink. But 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


219 


he suggested, with official prudence, that they go out 
in front and sit under a tree where they could con- 
verse wore at liberty. 

“Afore you go out, ’Squire,” said Mrs. Bolster, 
with an attempt at coyness, “I want yo’ t’ do a lit- 
tle job fer me.” 

Shorty’s hair tried to stand on end. 

“Jest wait a little, my good woman,” said the 
’Squire patronizingly. “I want to talk to these gen- 
tlemen first ; I kin ’tend to your matter any time.” 

They lighted their pipes, and talked and talked, 
while Mrs. Bolster fidgeted around in growing anx- 
iety. Finally, as the sun was going down, she could 
stand it no longer, and approached the group. 

“ ’Squire,” she said, “I’m orferly anxious to have a 
little job o’ mine done. ’Twon’t take yo’ five minits. 
Please ’tend to it right away.” 

“What is it she wants?” inquired the Major. 

“I think she wants me to marry her to a Yankee 
deserter in there. She whispered suthin’ o’ that kind 
to me awhile ago.” 

“That reminds me,” said the Major; “I want you 
to swear those two men into the service of the South- 
ern Confederacy. You might as well do it now, if 
you please, for I want to take them back with me 
and put them into a regiment.” 

“That won’t give much of a honeymoon to Mrs. 
Bolster,” grinned the ’Squire. 

“Well, we’ve all got to make sacrifices for the 
Cause, said the Major; “her honeymoon’ll be the 
sweeter for being postponed. I’ve had to postpone 
mine.” 

“Well, bring the men out,” said the ’Squire, pour- 
ing himself out another drink. 


220 


SI KLEGG. 


Si and Shorty had moved to the front door when 
Mrs. Bolster went out, and could hear the whole 
conversation. They looked at one another. Their 
faces were whiter than they had ever been on the 
field of battle. 

“Take the oath of allegiance to the Southern Con- 
federacy? Die right here a hundred times,” surged 
through both their hearts. 

Si pulled the bunches of firecrackers from his 
pocket, undid them before the children’s wondering 
eyes. He went through a pantomime to tell them to 
take a coal from the fire, run out back with them, 
and touch it to the fuses. 

“Take a coal, run back, and tech it to them 
strings,” said Shorty, forgetting himself in his ex- 
citement. “It’ll be the greatest fun ye ever saw.” 

“What’s that y’re sayin’?” said Mrs. Bolster. 

“Jest talkin’ to the children,” said Shorty, seeing 
with relief the children bolt out of the back door. 
He slipped his hand on his revolver, determined to 
kill the ’Squire, the Major, and the other three men 
before he would take a syllable of the oath. 

“Come out here, men,” said the Major authori- 
tatively. Si slipped his hand into his pocket, grasped 
his revolver, and walked forward very slowly. 

“Ahem,” said the ’Squire, with an official cough. 
“Raise yer right hands, and repeat these words after 
me, givin’ your own names.” 

The other rebels took off their hats. 

The dogs raised a clamor, which directed all eyes 
to the road. Sol Simmons and the rest could be seen 
coming on a dead run. 

“What does that mean?” said the Major anxiously. 


SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIED. 


221 


At the same instant there was a series of crashes 
behind the house; the firecrackers were going off 
like a volley of rifle-shots. The Major whirled 
around to see what that meant, and looked into the 
muzzle of Shorty's revolver. 

‘"Surrender, or I'll kill you," shouted Shorty des- 
perately. “Don't stop a minit. Throw up your 
hands, I tell you." 

Si was making a similar demand on Tuggers, while 
the 'Squire was standing, open-mouthed, with the 
first word of the oath apparently still on his tongue. 

The Major sprang at Shorty, whose bullet cut his 
hair. The next bullet caught the officer in the 
shoulder, and he reeled and went down. Si was not 
so fortunate with Tuggers, who succeeded in grap- 
pling him. Simmons dashed by and struck Si, in 
passing, with his fist, which sent him to the ground, 
with Tuggers on top. 

The next minute the 'Squire, who was the only 
one who had any opportunity to look, saw Yankees 
pop out of the brush and jump the fences in a 
long, irregular line which immediately surrounded 
the house. Capt. McGillicuddy cut down Simmons 
with his sword, and the rest incontinently surren- 
dered. 

“We had got tired of waiting, and were on the 
point of dashing in, anyhow, when we heard the 
firecrackers," said Capt. McGillicuddy, after the 
prisoners had been secured and things quieted down. 
“That feller that I cut down was out there with a 
squad and caught sight of us, and started back this 
way, and I concluded to follow him up and jump the 
house. Neither of you hurt, are you?" 


222 


SI KLEGG. 


“Not hurt a mite/’ answered Shorty cheerfully, 
“but it’s the closest squeak I ever had. Wouldn’t go 
through it agin for a pile o’ greenbacks big as a 
cornshock. Say, Cap., you’ve made a ten-strike to- 
day that ought to make you a Major. That house’s 
plum full o’ contraband, and there’s a lot o’ important 
letters there. But, say. Cap., I want you to either 
kill that ’Squire or git him as fur away as possible. 
I ain’t safe a minnit as long as him and that woman’s 
a-nigh me.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE — THE BOYS CAPTURE 
REBELS AND ADMINISTER THE OATH. 

T he rebel Major accepted the unexpected 
turn of events with soldierly philosophy. 
Tuggers, captured in a blue uniform, saw 
the ignominious fate of a spy loom up before his 
eyes. His face grew very white and set. He sat 
down on a log, looked far away, and seemed oblivous 
to everything around^ him. 

Jeff Hackberry and Sol Simmons were frightened 
into nerveless terror, and occasionally sighed and 
groaned audibly. Their men huddled together like 
frightened sheep, and looked anxiously at every 
move of their captors. 

’Squire Corson had ventured two or three remarks 
in a judicial and advisory way, but had been ordered 
by Capt. McGillicuddy to sit down and keep quiet. 
He took a seat on a stump, pulled a large bandana 
out of his beaver crowned hat, wiped his bald head, 
and anxiously surveyed the scene as if looking for 
an opportunity when the power and dignity of the 
State of Tennessee might be invoked to advantage. 

Only Mrs. Bolster retained her aggressiveness and 
her tongue. If anything, she seemed to be more 
savage and virulent than ever. She was wild that 
she had been outwitted, and particularly by Si, 
whose fluent speech had returned the moment the 


224 


SI KLEGG. 


firecrackers went off. She poured out volleys of 
scorching epithets on all the Yankees from President 
Lincoln down to Corp'l Si Klegg, and fervently in- 
voked for them speedy death and eternal torment 
where the worm dieth not and the fire is not 
quenched. 

Capt. McGillicuddy rounded up his prisoners, took 
arms from those who still retained them, had Si and 
Shorty do what they could toward dressing the 
Major’s wound, and then began an examination of 
the house. 

He found abundant evidence of all that he. Si and 
Shorty had believed of it. It was a rendezvous for 
spies, both great and small — both those, like Mrs. 
Bolster, who infested our camps, and got news of 
whatever was going on there, and those who op- 
erated on a larger scale, passing directly from the 
Headquarters of the rebels to the Headquarters of 
ours, and to the rear, and the sources of information 
at Nashville and Louisville. It was an important 
station on the route for smuggling gun-caps, quin- 
ine, medicines and other contraband from the North. 
Quantities of these were there waiting to be for- 
warded. As the source of the fighting whisky intro- 
duced into the camp of the 200th Ind. too much 
was known of it to require any further information. 
And it was more than probable that it was the 
scene of darker crimes — Union soldiers lured thither 
under some pretext, murdered and robbed. 

''How in the world am I going to break this in- 
fernal nest up?” said Capt. McGillicuddy, with a 
puzzled air, after he had ordered the whisky de- 
stroyed and the other things gotten in shape to send 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE. 


225 


back to camp. ''By rights, I ought to burn that 
house down, but that would leave all these children 
without shelter. By the same token, I ought to 
shoot or at least send of£ to prison that old she- 
catamount, but that would mean starving the chil- 
dren to death. I declare, I don’t know what to do.” 

He had drawn apart a little with Si and Shorty, 
to whom he spoke confidentially, while casting his 
eyes about him as if seeking some solution of the 
problem. 

"If you’ll allow me. Captain,” said Shorty, "I’ve 
an idee. Now that we’ve got the trap, let’s set it 
agin, and see if we can’t ketch some more.” 

"Splendid idea. Shorty,” said the Captain, catch- 
ing on at once. 

"And my idee,” said Shorty, emboldened by the 
reception of his first suggestion, "is that you take 
all the company but me and Si and four or fire of 
the boys back to camp, leavin’ us here until to-mor- 
row at least. There’ll probably some very interestin’ 
men happen along here to-night, not knowing what’s 
happened, and we’ll jest quietly yank ’em in.” 

"That’s good,” assented the Captain. 

"In the meantime,” continued Shorty, "you kin be 
considerin’ what you’ll do with the house. It may 
be best to let it stand, and watch it. That’s a good 
way to do with a bee-tree or a woodchuck hole. 

"I believe you are right. I’ll do as you say. Si, 
you and Shorty pick out as many men as you want 
to stay with you. I’ll leave one of these horses with 
you. If you should happen to need any more, mount 
one of the boys and send him back for help. I’ll 
come out with the whole company.” 


226 


SI KLEGG. 


Shorty and Si consulted together for a few min- 
utes, picked out their men, gave their names to 
the Captain, and received his assent to the selection. 
Then Shorty said: 

“Captain, you don't want to take that old woman, 
the 'Squire and that skunk they call Jeff Hackberry 
back to camp with you, do you? Leave 'em here 
with us. I've got a little scheme." 

“The old woman and the 'Squire you can take and 
welcome," answered the Captain. “I'll be glad to 
have them off my hands. But Hackberry is a rebel 
soldier. I don't know about giving him up." 

“Leave him with us, then. We'll turn him back to 
you all right, and the old woman and the 'Squire, 
too, if you want 'em." 

“No," said the Captain, with an impatient wave 
of his hand. “Keep them, do what you please with 
them. If you should accidentally kill the old woman 
I should not be unduly distressed. But don't let 
Hackberry get away from you. I'll take the rest 
back to camp, and I must start at once, for it's 
getting late, and we didn't bring any rations with 
us. Do you suppose you can find enough around 
the house to keep you till, morning?" 

“0, yes," said Si. “There's a sack of meal in there 
and some side-meat. We gave the old woman a lot 
of coffee. We'll make out all right." 

The prisoners had been watching the Captain and 
his men with greatest anxiety. They now saw Si 
with his squad take the 'Squire, Mrs. Bolster and 
Hackberry off to one side, while the Captain placed 
the remainder of the prisoners in the center of 
his company and started back to camp with them. 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE. 


227 


There was something in this separation that terrified 
even Mrs. Bolster, who stopped railing and began to 
look frightened. 

“What are yo’uns goin’ to do with we’uns?” she 
inquired hoarsely of Si. 

“You'll find out soon enough," said Si significantly. 
“Set down there on that log and think about what 
you deserve. You might put in any spare time you 
have in doing some big repentin'." 

Hackberry began to whine and beg for mercy, but 
Shorty ordered him to keep silent. 

“I want you to understand," said the 'Squire, “that 
I'm a regerlarly elected and qualified Magistrate o' 
the State o' Tennessee; that I'm not subjeck to mili- 
tary laws, and if any harm comes to me you'll have to 
answer for it to the State o' Tennessee." 

“Blast the State o' Tennessee," said Shorty con- 
temptuously. “When we git through there won't 
be no State o' Tennessee. It'll be roasting in the 
same logheap with South Caroliny and Virginny, 
with Jeff Davis brilin' in the middle." 

“Boys," ordered Si, “a couple of you look around 
the house and see if you can't find a mattock and 
shovel. 

Terrible fears assailed the three unhappy prisoners 
at this. What could a mattock and shovel be wanted 
for but to dig their graves? 

Shorty stepped over a little distance to a large 
clump of “red-sticks." These grow in long wands 
of brilliant red, as straight as a corn-stalk, and slen- 
derer. They are much used about the farms of the 
South for rods for rough measurement. He cut 
one off about six feet long and stripped off its leaves. 


228 


SI KLEGG. 


The anxious eyes of the prisoners followed every 
movement. 

Two of the boys appeared with an old mattock 
and shovel. 

''Guess you'd better dig right over there," said Si, 
indicating a little bare knoll. 

"Nothin' else's ever bin planted there. At least 
nothin's ever come up. The chances are agin their 
cornin' up if we plant 'em there." 

"Stand up," said Shorty, approaching Hackberry 
with the bright crimson rod in his hand. "I'm goin' 
to measure you for a grass-green suit that'll last you 
till Gabriel blows his horn." 

Hackberry gave a howl of terror. The 'Squire and 
Mrs. Bolster began a clamor of protests. 

"Don't fuss," said Shorty calmly to them, as he 
took Hackberry's dimensions. "I ain't goin' to show 
no partiality. I'll serve you both the same way. 
Your turns 'll come after his'n." 

The children, aware that something unusual was 
going on, yet unable to comprehend what it was, 
stood silently around, their fingers in their mouths 
and their vacant eyes fixed in the stolid stare of the 
mountaineer youth. Even the dogs were quiet, and 
seemed watching the scene with more understand- 
ing than the children. 

Mrs. Bolster's mood suddenly changed from bitter 
vituperation. She actually burst into tears, and be- 
gan pleading for her life, and making earnest prom- 
ises as to better conduct in the future. The 'Squire 
and Hackberry followed suit, and blubbered like 
schoolboys. Mrs. Bolster reminded Si and Shorty 
how she had saved them from being killed by the 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE. 


229 


fierce Hackberry and the still fiercer Simmons. This 
seemed to move them. She tried a ghastlyi travesty 
of feminine blandishments by telling Shorty how 
handsome she had thought him, and had fallen in 
love with him at first sight. Shorty gave a grimace 
at this. He and Si stepped back a little for consul- 
tation. 

When they came back Shorty said oracularly: 

**Our orders is strict, and we should've carried 
'em out at once. But, talkin' with my partner here, 
we're reminded o' somethin'. We believe it's the 
law that when a man or woman is sentenced to 
death the execution kin be put off if they kin find any- 
body to marry 'em. Is that good law, 'Squire?" 

“H-m-m," answered the Magistrate, resuming his 
judicial manner at once; 'That is a general belief, 
and I've heard o' some instances of it. But before 
sayin' positively, I should like to examine the author- 
ities an' hear argument." 

"Well, there hain't goin' to be no continuance in 
this case for you to look up authorities and hear 
arguments," said Shorty decisively. "We're the 
higher court in this case, and we decided that the 
law's good enough for it. We've settled that if 
Mrs. Bolster 'll marry Hackberry, and Hackberry 
'll marry Mrs. Bolster, and you’ll marry 'em both, 
we'll grant a stay o’ proceedings in the matter o' 
the execution o' the sentence o' death until we kin be 
advised by the higher authorities.” 

"I'll do anything. Mister,” blubbered Hackberry. 
"I'll marry her this minnit. Say the words, 'Squire." 

"I've said I'd rather die 10 times over than marry 
yo', Jeff Hackberry,” murmured Mrs. Bolster. "I've 


230 


SI KLEGG. 


bin the wife o' one ornery snipe of a whisky-sucking 
sang-digger, and when the Lord freed me from him 
I said I’d never git yoked with another. But I 
s’pose I’ve got to live for my children, though the 
Lord knows the yaller-headed brats hain’t wuth hit. 
They’re everyone of ’em their dad over agin— all 
Bolsters, and not wuth the powder to blow ’em to 
kingdom come. I’d a heap ruther marry Jeff Hack- 
berry to make sure o’ havin’ him shot than to save 
him from shootin’.” 

'‘You hain’t no choice. Madam,” said Shorty 
severely. “Law and orders is strict on that pint.” 

“Well, then,” said she, “since hit’s a chTce be- 
twixt death and Jeff Hackberry, I’ll take Jeff Hack- 
berry, though I wouldn’t take him on no other terms, 
and I’m afeared I’m makin’ a mistake as hit is.” 

“What do you say, ’Squire?” asked Shorty. 

“I’ve bin studyin’ on jest whar I come in,” an- 
swered the Magistrate. “These two save their 
necks by marry in’, but do you understand that the 
law says that the Magistrate who marries ’em gits 
his neck saved?” 

“The court is not clear on that as a p’int o’ law,” 
said Shorty; “but in the present case it’ll hold that 
the ’Squire who does the splicin’ gets as much of a 
rake-off as the rest. This is not to be considered a 
precedent, however.” 

“All right,” assented the ’Squire; “let the couple 
jine hands.” * 

With an air of glad relief, Hackberry sprang up 
and put out his hand. Mrs. Bolster came up more 
slowly and reluctantly grasped his hairy fist in her 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE. 


231 


large, skinny hand. The ’Squire stood up before 
them in his most impressive attitude. 

“Hold on,” suddenly called out Tom Welch, who 
was the “guard-house lawyer” of Co. Q, and con- 
stantly drawing the “Regulations,” the “Tactics,” 
and the “Constitution and Laws of the United 
States,” in which he was sharply proficient, upon 
the members of the regiment. “I raise the point 
that the ’Squire can’t officiate until he has taken 
the oath of allegiance to the United States.” 

Si and Shorty looked at one another. 

“That’s a good point,” said Si. “He’s got to take 
the oath of allegiance.” 

“Never,” shouted the ’Squire, who had begun to 
recover his self-confidence. “Never, as long as I 
live. I’ve sworn allegiance to the Southern Confed- 
eracy, and won’t take no other oath.” 

“Grave for one!” called out Shorty to the boys 
with the pick and shovel, as if he were giving an 
order in a restaurant. “Full size, and hurry up 
with it.” 

He picked up his measuring rod and started to 
take the ’Squire’s dimensions; 

The ’Squire wilted at once. “I s’pose I’ve got to 
yield to force,” he muttered. “I’ll take the oath.” 

“Who knows the oath?” inquired Si. “Do you, 
Tom ?” 

“Not exactly,” replied Tom, non-plused for once. 
“But I know the oath we took when mustered in. 
That ought to do. What’s good enough for us is 
good enough for him.” 

“Go ahead,” ordered Si. 

“We ought to have a Bible by rights,” said Tom. 


232 


SI KLEGG. 


^ 'Where kin we find your Bible, Mrs. Bolster, asked 
Si. 

“We’uns air done clean out o’ Bibles,” she said, 
rather shamefacedly. '‘Thar hain’t nary one in the 
house. I allers said we orter have a Bible. Hit 
looked ’spectable to have one in the house. But 
Andy allers wanted every cent to guzzle on.” 

“Here’s a Testament. That’ll do,” said Tom, 
handing Si one which some of the boys had about 
him. “Lie’s make ’em all take the oath while we’re 
at it.” 

“You’ll all raise your right hands,” said Si, open- 
ing the book. “Place your left on this book, and 
repeat the words after that man there, givin’ your 
own names.” Si was as solemn about it as he be- 
lieved everyone should be at such a ceremony. 
Hackberry and Mrs. Bolster were not sure which 
were their right hands, but Si finally got them 
started, and Tom Welch repeated slowly and im- 
pressively : 

“You do solemnly swear to support the Constitu- 
tion and laws of the United States, and all laws 
made in pursuance thereof, against all enemies and 
opposers whatsoever, whether foreign or .domestic, 
and to obey the orders of all officers duly appointed 
over you. So help you God, and kiss this book.” 

“And to quit liquor selling, smuggling, spying and 
giving aid and comfort to the enemy,” added Shorty, 
and this was joined to the rest of the oath. 

“I ought to have added that they wash their faces 
once a day, and put more shortenin’ and fillin’ in 
Mrs. Bolster’s pies,” said Shorty in an undertone to 


AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE. 


233 


Si. “But I suppose we oughtn’t to ask impossible 
things.” 

“Now go ahead with the wedding ceremony,” 
ordered Si. 

Again the ’Squire commanded them to join hands, 
and after mumbling over the fateful words, pro- 
nounced Thomas Jefferson Hackberry and Mrs. 
Sophronia Bolster man and wife. 

“Now,” said Shorty, who felt at last fully in- 
sured against a great danger, “I believe it’s the law 
and custom for all the witnesses to a weddin’ to see 
the bride and bridegroom in bed together. You’ll 
go inside the house and take one of them beds, and 
after we’ve seen you there we’ll consider your cases 
further. You’re all right, anyway, until we hear 
from camp to-morrow.” 

Amid the grins of the rest the boys conducted 
the newly-weds into the house. 

He and Si brought out the sack of meal, a few 
cooking utensils, a side of bacon, and the package 
of coffee, which they gave to the other boys to get 
supper with. They closed the door behind them, ex- 
cluding the children and dogs, and left the pair to 
their own reflections. 

“Gentlemen, what air you gwine to do with me?” 
asked the ’Squire. “I’d powerful like to git on home, 
if you’ve no further use for me.” 

“We hain’t decided what to do with you, you old 
fomenter o’ rebellion,” said Si. “We ought to shoot 
you for what you’ve done in stirring up these men 
to fight us. We’ll settle your case to-morrow. 
You’ll stajr with us till then. We’ll give vou your 


234 


SI KLEGG. 


supper, and after awhile you kin go in and sleep 
in that other bed, with the children.” 

The 'Squire gave a dismal groan at the prospect, 
which was lost on the boys, who were very hungry 
and hurrying around helping to get supper. 

They built a fine fire and cooked a bountiful meal, 
of which all, including the 'Squire and children, 
partook heartily. A liberal portion, with big cups 
of strong coffee, were sent into the bridal couple. 
As bed-time drew near, they sent the 'Squire and 
the children into the house, and divided themselves 
up into reliefs to watch during the night. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


GATHERING INFORMATION — SI AND SHORTY WORK A 
TRAP AND LAND SOME PRISONERS. 

T he boys were sitting around having another 
smoke before crawling into their blankets, 
spread under the shade of the scraggly lo- 
custs and mangy cedars, when the dogs raised an 
alarm. 

“Get back under the shadow of the trees, boys, 
and keep quiet,’' said Si. 

“Hello, the house!” came out of the darkness at 
the foot of the hill. 

“Hello, thar’ yourself,” answered Shorty, imitat- 
inf Mrs. Bolster’s voice. 

“Hit’s me — Brad Tingle. Don’t yo’ know my 
voice? Call off yer dogs. They’ll eat me up.” 

“Hullo, Brad ; is that yo’ ? Whar’d yo’ come from ? 
Git out, thar. Watch! Lay down, Tige! Begone, 
Bones ! Come on up. Brad.” 

Shorty’s imitations of Mrs. Bolster’s voice and 
manner were so good as to deceive even the dogs, 
who changed their attitude of shrill defiance to one of 
fawning welcome. 

“Whar’d yo’ come from. Brad?” repeated Shorty 
as the newcomer made his way up the narrow, stony 
path. 

“Jest from the Yankee camps,” ans.wered the new- 
comer. “Me an’ Jim Wyatt’s bin over thar by that 


236 


SI KLEGG. 


Hoosier camp tryin' to git the drop on their Kurnel 
as he was gwine V Brigade Headquarters. We 
almost had him when a company o’ Yankees that’d 
bin out in the country for something a’most run over 
us. They’uns wuz a-nigh on top o’ we’uns afore we 
seed they’uns, an’ then we’uns had t’ scatter. Jim 
run one way an’ me another. I come back here t’ 
see ef yo’ had any o’ the boys here. I hearn tell 
that a passel o’ Yankee ossifers is at a dance over at 
the Widder Brewster’s an’ I thought we’uns might 
done gether they’uns in ef we’uns went about it 
right.” 

^‘So you kin — so you kin,” said Shorty, reaching 
out from behind the bushes and catching him by the 
collar. ‘‘And to show you how. I’ll jest gether 
you in.” 

A harsh, prolonged, sibilant, far-reaching hiss 
came from the door of the cabin, but came too late 
to warn Brad Tingle of the trap into which he was 
walking. 

Shorty understood it at once. He jerked Tingle 
forward into Si’s strong clutch, and then walked 
toward the cabin, singing out angrily : 

“Jeff Hackberry, I want you to make that wife o’ 
your’n mind her own bisness, and let other people’s 
alone. You and her’ve got quite enough to do to 
tend to your honeymoon, without mixing into things 
that don’t concern you. Take her back to bed and 
keep her there.” 

He went back to where Si was disarming and 
searching Tingle. The prisoner had a United States 
musket, cartridjge-box, canteen, and a new haver- 
sack, all of which excited Shorty’s ire. 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


237 


“You hound, you,” he said, taking him by the 
throat with a fierce grasp, “you've bin bushwhack- 
ing, . and got these things off some soldier you 
sneaked onto and killed. We ought to kill you right 
now, like we would a dog.” 

“No, Mister, I haint killed nobody ; I swar t' God I 
haint,” gurgled the prisoner, trying to release his 
throat from Shorty's grip. 

“ Where'd you git these things ?” demanded Shorty. 

“Mrs. Bolster gi' me the gun an' cartridge-box; 
I done found the canteen in the road, an' the poke 
with the letters in hit the Yank had done laid down 
beside him when he stopped t' git a drink, an' me an' 
Jim crep' up on him an' ordered him to surrender. 
He jumped an' run, an' we wuz af eared to shoot 
least we bring the rest o' the Yanks down onto us.” 

At the mention of letters Si began eagerly exam- 
ining the contents of the haversack. He held some 
of them down to the light of the fire, and then ex- 
claimed excitedly : 

“Why, boys, this is our mail. It was Will Go- 
bright they were after.” 

A sudden change came over Shorty. He took the 
prisoner by the back of the neck and ran him up to 
the door of the house and flung him inside. Then he 
hastened back to the fire and said: 

“Le's see them letters.” 

A pine-knot had been thrown on the fire to make a 
bright blaze, by the light of which Si was laboriously 
fumbling over the letters. Even by the flaring, un- 
certain glare it could be seen that a ruddy hue came 
into his face as he came across one with a gorgeous 
flag on one end of the envelope, and directed in a 


238 


SI KLEGG. 


pinched, labored hand on straight lines scratched 
by a pin. He tried to slip the letter unseen by the 
rest into his blouse pocket, but fumbled it so badly 
that he dropped the rest in a heap at the edge of the 
fire. 

“Look out. Si,'' said Shorty crossly, and hastily 
snatching the letters away from the fire. “You'll 
burn up somebody's letters, and then there'll be no 
end o' trouble. You're clumsier'n a foundered horse. 
Your fingers are all thumbs." 

“Handle them yourself, if you think you kin do 
any better," said Si, who, having got all that he 
wanted, lost interest in the rest. If Si's fingers were 
all thumbs. Shorty's seemed all fists. Besides, his 
reading of handwriting was about as laborious as 
climbing a ladder. He tackled the lot bravely, 
though, and laboriously spelled out and guessed one 
address after another, until suddenly his eye was 
glued on a postmark that differed from the others. 
“Wis." first caught his glance, and he turned the 
envelope around until he had spelled out “Bad Ax" 
as the rest of the imprint. This was enough. No- 
body else in the regiment got letters from Bad Ax, 
Wis. He fumbled the letter into his blouse pocket, 
and in turn dropped the rest at the edge of the fire, 
arousing protests from the other boys. 

“Well, if any o' you think you kin do better'n T 
kin, take 'em up. There they are," said he. “You go 
over 'em, Tom Welch. I must look around a little." 

Shorty secretly caressed the precious envelope in 
his pocket with his great, strong fingers, and pon- 
dered as to how he was going to get an opportunity 
to read the letter before daylight. It was too sacred 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


239 


and too sweet to be opened and read before the eyes 
of his unsympathetic, teasing comrades, and yet it 
seemed an eternity to wait till morning. He stole 
a glance out of the corner of his eye at Si, who was 
going through the same process, as he stood with 
abstracted air on the other side of the fire. The sud- 
den clamor of the dogs recalled them to present 
duties. 

‘‘Hullo, the house !” came out of the darkness. 

“Hullo, yourself!’’ replied Shorty, in Mrs. Bol- 
ster’s tones. 

“It’s me — Groundhog. Call off yer dogs.” 

Si and Shorty looked startled, and exchanged sig- 
nificant glances. “Needn’t ’ve told it was him,” said 
Shorty. “I could smell his breath even this far. 
Hullo, Groundhog,” he continued in loud tones. 
“Come on up. Git out. Watch! Lay down, Tige! 
Begone, Bones! Come on up. Groundhog. What’s 
the news?” 

A louder, longer, more penetrating hiss than ever 
sounded from the house. Shorty looked around an- 
grily. Si made a break for the door. 

“No, I can’t come up now,” said Groundhog; “I 
jest come by to see if things wuz all right. A com- 
pany went out o’ camp this mornin’ for some place 
that I couldn’t find out. I couldn’t git word t’ you,, 
an’ I’ve bin anxious ’bout whether it come this way.” 

“Never tetched us,” answered Shorty, in perfect 
reproduction of Mrs. Bolster’s accents. “We’uns is 
all right.” 

The hissing from the cabin became so loud that it 
seemed impossible for Groundhog not to hear it. 


SI KLEGG. 


24CL 

'‘Blast it, Si, can’t you gag that old guinea-hen,” 
said Shorty, in a savage undertone. 

Si 'was in the mean-while muttering all sorts of 
savage threats at Mrs. Bolster, the least of 'which 
'was to go in and choke the life out of her if she did 
not stop her signalling. 

“Glad t’ hear it,” said Groundhog. “I 'was a leetle 
skeery all day about it, an’ come out as soon’s I could. 
Have yo’ seed Brad Tingle?” 

“Yes; seen him to-day.” 

“D’ yo’ kno'w 'whar he is ? Kin yo’ git -word to him 
quick ?” 

“Yes, indeed; right off.” 

“Well, send 'word to him as soon as you kin, that 
I’ve got the mules ready for stampedin’ an’ runnin’ 
off at any time, an’ -waitin’ for him. The sooner he 
kin jump the corral the better. To-night, if he kin, 
but suttinly not later’n to-morrer night. Be sure 
and git -word to him by early to-morrer mornin’ at 
the furthest.” 

“I’ll be sure t’ git -word t’ him this very night,” an- 
s-wered the fictitious Mrs. Bolster. 

“Well, good-night. I must hurry along, an’ git 
back afore the second relief goes off. All my friends 
air on it. See yo’ ter-morrer, if I kin.” 

“You jest bet you’ll see me to-morro-w,” said 
Shorty grimly, as he heard Groundhog’s mule clatter 
a-way. “If you don’t see me the disappointment ’ll 
come night breaking my heart. No-w I’ll go in and 
learn Mr. and Mrs. Hackberry ho-w to spend the first 
night o’ their -wedded lives.” 

“I don’t keer ef yo’ do shoot me. I’d a heap ruther 
be shot than not,” she -was saying to Si as Shorty 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


241 


came up. “Fve changed my mind sence I’ve bin put 
in here. I’d a heap ruther die than live with Jeff 
Hackberry.” 

“Never knowed married folks to git tired o’ one 
another so soon,” commented Shorty. “But I 
should’ve thought that Jeff’d got tired first. But 
this it no time to fool around with fambly jars. Look 
here, Jeff Hackberry, you must make that wife o’ 
yourn keep quiet. If she tries to give another signal 
we’ll tie you up by the thumbs now, besides shoot you 
in the mornin’.” 

“What kin I do with her?” whined Jeff. 

“Do with her? You kin make her mind. That’s 
your duty. You’re the head o’ the fambly.” 

“Head o’ the fambly?” groaned Jeff, in mournful 
sarcasm. “Mister, you don’t seem to be acquainted 
with ’Frony. 

“Head o’ the fambly,” sneered his wife. “He aint 
the head o’ nothin’. Not the head o’ a pin. He haint 
no more head’n a fishworm.” 

“Look here, woman,” said Shorty, “didn’t you 
promise to love, honor and obey him ?” 

“No, I didn’t nuther. I said I’d shove, hammer 
an’ belay him. Hit’s none o’ yer bizniss, nohow, yo’ 
sneakin’ Yankee’ what I do to him. You hain’t no 
call t’ mix betwixt him an’ me. An’ my mouth’s 
my own. I’ll use hit jest as I please, in spite o’ yo’ 
an’ him, an’ 40 others like yo’. Hear that?” 

“Well, you git back into that bed, an’ stay there, 
and don’t you dare give another signal, or I’ll buck- 
and-gag you on your wedding-night.” 

“Don’t you dar tetch me,” she said menacingly. 

“I aint goin’ to tech you. I’m too careful what I 


0 


242 


SI KLEGG. 


touch. But ril tie you to that bed and gag you, if 
you don't do as I say. Get back into bed at once." 

“I ain't gwine t', and yo' can't make me," she said 
defiantly. 

“Take hold of her, Jeff," said Shorty, pulling out 
his bayonet and giving that worthy a little prod. 

Jeff hasitated until Shorty gave him a more earn- 
est prod, when he advanced toward his wife, but, 
as he attempted to lay his hands on her shoulders, 
she caught him, gave him a quick twist and a trip, 
and down he went; but he had clutched her to save 
himself from falling, and brought her down with 
him. Shorty caught her elbows and called to Si to 
bring him a piece of cord, with which he tied her 
arms. Another piece bound her ankles. She lay on 
the floor and railed with all the vehemence of her 
vicious tongue. 

“Pick her up and lay her on the bed there," Shorty 
ordered Jeff. Jeff found some difficulty in lifting 
the tall, bony frame, but Shorty gave him a little 
help with the ponderous but agile feet, and the 
woman was finally gotten on the bed. 

“Now, we'll gag you next, if you make any more 
trouble," threatened Shorty. “We don't allow no 
woman to interfere with military operations." 

They had scarcely finished this when the dogs be- 
gan barking again, and Si and Shorty hurried out. 
The operations in the house had rather heated them, 
the evening was warm, and Shorty had taken off his 
blouse and drawn it up inside of his belt, in the rear. 

The noise of the dogs betokened the approach of 
something more than usual visitors. Through the 
clamor the boys' quick ears could detect the clatter 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


243 


of an ominous numbr of hoofs. The other boys heard 
it, too, and were standing around, gun in hand, wait- 
ing developments. 

“Hullo, dere, de house!'' came in a voice Si and 
Shorty dimly recognized having heard somewhere 
before. 

“Hullo, yourself," answered Shorty. “Who air 
yo'?" 

“I'm Gapt. Littles," came back above the noise of 
barking. “Gall off your togs. I'm all righdt. Is it 
all right up dere?" 

“Yes. Lay down. Watch! Git out, Tige!" Shorty 
started to answer, when he was interrupted by the 
apparition of Mrs. Bolster-Hackberry flying out of 
the door, and yelling at the top of her voice : 

“No, hit ain't all right at all. Captain. The Yan- 
kees 've got us. Thar's a right smart passel o' 'em 
here, with we'uns prisoners. Jump 'em, if you' kin. 
If yo' can't, skeet out an' git enough t' down 'em an' 
git us out." 

Si and Shorty recognized that the time for words 
was passed. They snatched up their guns and fired 
in the direction of the hail. The other boys did the 
same. There was a patter of replying shots, aimed 
at the fire around which they had been standing, but 
had moved away from. 

Apparently, Capt. Littles thought the Yankees 
were in too great force for him to attack, for his 
horses could be heard moving away. The boys fol- 
lowed them with shots aimed at the sound. Si and 
Shorty ran down forward a little ways, hoping to 
get a better sight. The rebels halted, apparently dis- 


244 


SI KLEGG. 


mounted, ^got behind a fence and began firing back 
at intervals. 

Si and Shorty fired from the point they had 
gained, and drew upon themselves quite a storm of 
shots. 

'Things look bad,'' said Si to Shorty. 'They've 
halted there to hold us while they send for rein- 
forcements. We'd better go back to the boys and 
get things in shape. Mebbe we'd better send back to 
camp for help." 

"We'll wait till we find out more about 'em," said 
Shorty, as they moved back. They had to cross the 
road, upon the white surface of which they stood 
out in bold contrast and drew some shots which came 
uncomfortably close. 

The other boys, after a severe struggle, had caught 
Mrs. Bolster-Hackberry and put her back in the 
cabin. After a brief consultation, it was decided to 
hold their ground until daylight. They could get 
into the cabin, and by using it as a fortification, 
stand off a big crowd of enemies. The rest of the 
boys were sent inside to punch out loop-holes be- 
tween the logs, and make the place as defensible as 
possible. Si and Shorty were to stay outside and ob- 
serve. 

"I've got an idee how to fix that old woman," said 
Shorty suddenly. 

"Buck-and-gag her?" inquired Si. 

"No; we'll go in there and chuck her down that 
hole where she kept her whisky, and fasten the 
hasp in the staple." 

"Good idee, if the hole will hold her." 

"It's got to hold her. We can't have her rampag- 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


245 


ing round during the fight. Fd rather have a whole 
company o' rebels on my back." 

They did not waste any words with the old woman, 
but despite her yells and protests Si took hold of 
one shoulder Shorty the other, and forced her down 
in the pit and closed the puncheon above her. 

They went out again to reconnoiter. The enemy 
was quiet, apparently waiting. Only one shot, fired 
in the direction of the fire, showed that they were 
still there. 

Shorty suddenly bethought him of his blouse, in 
the pocket of which was the precious letter. He felt 
for it. It was gone. He was stunned. 

‘T remember, now," he said to himself, “it was 
working out as I ran, and it slipped down as I 
climbed the fence." 

He said aloud: 

“Si, Fve lost my blouse. I dropped it down there 
jest before we crossed the road. Fm goin' to get it." 

“Blast the blouse," said Si ; “let it be till mornin'. 
You need something worse'n a blouse to-night. 
You'll ketch a bullet sure's you're alive if you try to 
go acrost that road agin. They rake it." 

“I don't care if they do," said Shorty desperately. 
“Fd go down there if a battery raked it. There's a 
letter in the pocket that I must have." 

Si instinctively felt for the letter in his own 
pocket. “Very well," he said, “if you feel as if you 
must go I'll go along." 

“No, you sha'n't. You stay here in command ; it's 
your duty. You can't help if you do go. I'll go 
alone. I'll tell you what you might do, though. You 
might go over there to the left and fire on 'em, as if 


246 


SI KLEGG. 


we wuz feelin' around that way. ThatUl draw some 
o’ their attention.” 

Si did as suggested. 

Shorty crept back to the point they had before oc- 
cupied. The rebels saw him coming over a little 
knoll, and fired at him. He ran for the fence. He 
looked over at the road, and thought he saw the 
blouse lying in the ditch on the opposite side. He 
sprang over the fence and ran across the road. The 
rebels had anticipated this and sent a volley into the 
road. One bullet struck a small stone, which fiew 
up and smote Shorty’s cheek so sharply that he 
reeled. But he went on across, picked up the blouse, 
found the dear letter, and deliberately stopped in the 
road until he transferred it to the breast of his shirt. 
Then he sprang back over the fence, and stopped 
there a moment to rest. He could hear the rebel 
Captain talking to his men, and every moment the 
accents of the voice became more familiar. 

“Don’t vaste your shods,” he was saying. “Don’d 
vire undil you sees somedings to shood ad, unt den 
vire to hid. See how many shods you haf alretty 
vired mitout doing no goot. You must dink dat am- 
munition’s as blenty as vater in de Southern Con- 
federacy. If you hat as much druble as I haf to ket 
cartridges you vould pe more gareful of dem.” 

Capt. Littles was Rosenbaum, the Jew spy, mas- 
querading in a new role. Shorty’s heart leaped. In- 
stantly he thought of a way to let Rosenbaum know 
whom he had run up against. 

“Corporal Si Klegg!” he called out in his loudest 
tones. 

“What is it. Shorty?” answered the wondering Si. 


GATHERING INFORMATION. 


247 


“Don't let any more o’ the boys shoot over there 
to the left. That’s the way Capt. McGillicuddy’s 
a-comin’ in with Co. Q. I think I kin see him now 
jest raisin’ the hill. Yes, Tm sure it’s him.” 

The next instant he heard the rebel Captain say- 
ing to his men: 

“Poys, dey’re goming up in our rear. Dey’re de 
men ve saw a liddle vhile ago. De only vay is to 
mount unt make a rush past de house. All mount 
unt vollow me as vast as dey gan.” 

There was a gallop of horsemen up the road, and 
they passed by like the wind, while Si and Shorty 
fired as fast as they could load — Shorty over their 
heads. Si at the noise. Just opposite the house the 
Captain’s horse stumbled, and his rider went over 
his head into a bank of weeds. The rest swept 
on, not heeding the mishap. 

“Surrender, Levi,” said Shorty, running up. 

“Certainly, my tear poy,” said Rosenbaum. “Any- 
ding dat you vant. How are you, anyvay? Say, 
dat vas a nead drick, vasn’t it? Haf your horse 
sdumble unt trow you jest ad de righd dime unt 
place? It dook me a long dime to deach my horse 
dot. I’m mighty glat to see you.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN — MR. ROSENBAUM RECITES A 
THRILLING EXPERIENCE. 

^^" 1“ 1 " 1ST, boys, don’t talk friendly to me out 
loud,” said the prudent Rosenbaum. 
“What’s happened? I know you have got 
the house. I have been expecting for a long time 
that there would be a raid made upon it. What the 
devil is that saying you have : Tt’s a long worm that 
don’t have a turn.’ No ; that isn’t it. Tt’s an ill 
lane that blows nobody no good.’ No ; that’s not it, 
neither. Well, anyway, Mrs. Sophronia unt her 
crowd got entirely too bold. They played too open, 
unt I knew they’d soon get ketched. Who did you 
get in the house?” 

Si started to call over the names, and to recite 
the circumstances, but as he reached that of Brad 
Tingle, Rosenbaum clutched him by the arm and 
said earnestly: 

“Hold on. Tell me the rest after a while. I’m 
afraid of that man. He’s come pretty near getting 
on to me several times already. He’s listening now, 
unt he’ll be sure to suspect something if he don’t 
hear you treating me as you did the others. Begin 
swearing at me as you did at the rest.” 

Si instantly took the hint. 

“I’ll stand no more foolishness,” he called out 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


249 


angrily. '‘If you don’t surrender at once I’ll blow 
your rebel head off.” 

“I have to give up,” Rosenbaum replied in an ac- 
cent of pain, “for I believe I broke my leg when I 
fell. I find I can’t stand up.” 

“Give up your arms, then, and we’ll help you up 
to the fire, and see how badly you’re hurt,” said Si. 

Rosenbaum gave groans of anguish as Si and 
Shorty picked him up and carried him over to 
the fire. 

“Now we’re out of ear-shot o’ the house,” said Si, 
as they deposited him on the opposite side, and 
somewhat behind a thicket of raspberries, “and we 
can talk. Where did you come from this time, 
Levi?” 

“Straight from General Bragg’s Headquarters 
at Tullahoma, and I have got information that will 
make General Rosecrans’s heart jump for joy. 
I have got the news he has been waiting for all these 
weeks to move his army. I have got the number of 
Bragg’s men, jusc where they are stationed, and 
how many is at each place. I’m crazy to get 
to General Rosecrans with the news. I have been 
cavorting around the country all day trying some 
way to get in, unt at my wits’ ent, for some of the 
men with me had their suspicions of me, unt wouldn’t 
have hesitated to shoot me, if they didn’t like the 
way I was acting. To tell the truth, it’s been getting 
pretty hot for me over there in the rebel lines. Too 
many men have seen me in Yankee camps. This man. 
Brad Tingle, has seen me twice at General Rose- 
crans’s Headquarters, unt has told a lot of stories 
that made much trouble. I think that this is the last 


250 


SI KLEGG. 


visit ril pay General Bragg. Fm fond of visit- 
ing, but it rather discourages me to be so that I 
can’t look at a limb running out from a tree with- 
out thinking that it may be where they will hang 
me.” 

“Excuse me from any such visitin’,” said Si sym- 
pathetically. “Fd much rather stay at home. Fve 
had 12 or 15 hours inside the enemy’s lines, play- 
in’ off deserter, and Fve had enough to last me my 
three years. I’ll take any day o’ the battle o’ Stone 
River in preference. I ain’t built for the spy busi- 
ness in any shape or form. I’m plain, out-and-out 
Wabash prairie style — everything above ground and 
in sight.” 

“Well, I’m different from you,” said Shorty. “I 
own up that Fm awfully fond o’ a game o’ hocus- 
pocus with, the rebels, and tryin’ to see which kin 
thimble-rig the other. It’s mighty excitin’ gamblin’ 
when your own head’s the stake, an’ beats poker an’ 
faro all holler. But I want the women ruled out o’ 
the game. Never saw a game yit that a woman 
wouldn’t spile if she got her finger in.” 

“Mrs. Bolster came mighty near marrying him, 
and he’s pale yet from the scare,” Si explained. 

**Yes,” said Shorty frankly. “You’ll see Fm still 
white all around the gills. Never wuz so rattled in 
my life. That woman’s a witch. You could only 
kill her by shooting her with a silver bullet. She 
put a spell on me, sure’s you’re a foot high. Lord, 
wouldn’t I like to be able to manage her. Fd set 
her up with a faro-bank or a sweat-board, and she’d 
win all the money in the army in a month.” 

“Yes, she’s a terror,” accorded Rosenbaum. “She 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


251 


made up her mind to marry me when I first come 
down here. I was awfully scared, for I was sure 
she saw through me sharper than the men did, and 
would marry me or expose me. But I got some 
points on her about poisoning a neighboring woman 
that she hated unt was jealous of, unt then I played 
an immediate order from General Bragg to me to 
report to his Headquarters. But it took all the'" 
brains I had to keep her off me.” 

''She's safe now from marryin' anybody for 
awhile,” said Shorty, and he related the story of 
her nuptials, which amused Rosenbaum greatly. 

"But you have signed Jeff Hackberry's death war- 
rant,” he said. "If he tries to live with her she’ll feed 
him wild parsnip, unt he’ll get a house of red clay, 
that you put the roof on with a shovel. It’ll be no 
great loss. Jeff ain’t worth in a year the bread he’ll 
eat in a day.” 

"She may be smothered in that hole,” Shorty be- 
thought himself. "I guess we’d better let her out 
for awhile.” 

"Yes,” said Rosenbaum. "She can’t do no harm 
now. Nobody else will come this way to-night. The 
men that were with me will scatter the news that the 
house is in Yankee hands. They think there’s a big 
force here, unt so we won’t be disturbed till morn- 
ing.” 

"Then I’ll go in and let her out,” said Shorty. 

The other inmates of the cabin were asleep when 
he entered, but they waked up, and begged him not 
to let the woman out until morning. 

"Keep her in there till daylight,” said ’Squire Cor- 
son, "and then restore me to my home and functions. 


252 


SI KLEGG. 


and I'll call out a posse comitatus, and have her 
publicly ducked, according to the laws of the land, 
as a common scold. I’ve never heard such vile 
language as she applied to me when I gave her the 
advice it was my duty to give to live in peace and 
quietness with her husband. That there woman’s 
a Niagary of cuss words and abuse.” 

“If yo’ let her out, take me outside with yo’,” 
begged Jeff Hackberry. “She’ll kill me, sho’, if I’ve 
to stay in here till mornin’ with her. She begun 
by hingin’ a bag o’ red pepper in my face, and set 
us all to sneezin’ until I thought the ’Squire’d sneeze 
his durned head off. Then she jobbed me with a 
bayonet, and acted as no woman orter act toward 
her lawful husband, no matter how long they’d bin 
married, let alone their weddin’ night.” 

“Sorry, but it’s agin all my principles to separate 
man and wife,” said Shorty, as he moved to the 
puncheon trap-door and undid the hasp. “You took 
her for better or worse, and it’s too early in the 
game to complain that you found her a blamed sight 
worse than you took her for. You’re one now, you 
know, and must stay that way until death do you 
part.” 

Shorty lifted up the trap-door, and Si helped the 
woman out with some difficulty. They expected a 
torrent of abuse, but she seemed limp and silent, 
and sank down on the floor. The boys picked her 
up and laid her on the bed beside Jeff Hackberry. 
“She’s fainted; she’s dead. She’s bin sufferkated 
in that hole,” said Jeff. 

“No, yo’ punkin-headed fool,” she gasped. “I 
hain’t dead, nor I hain’t fainted, nor I hain’t suffer- 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


253 


kated. Yo’ll find out when I git my wind back a 
little. I’m so full o’ mad an’ spite that I’m done 
tuckered clean out. I’m clean beat, so clean beat 
that I hain’t no words to fit the ’casion. I’ve got t’ 
lay still an’ think an’ gether up some.” 

''She’s cornin’ to, Shorty,” said Si. "It’ll be pleas- 
anter outside.” 

"You say you have been having unusually excit- 
ing times,” said Si to Rosenbaum, as the boys again 
seated themselves by the fire. 

"Veil, I should say so,” replied Rosenbaum with 
emphasis. "Do you know that General Bragg is 
the very worst man that ever lived ?” 

"All rebels are bad,” said Shorty oracularly. "But 
I suppose that some are much worse than others. 
I know that the private soldiers are awful, and I 
suppose the higher you go the wuss they are. The 
Corporals are cussider than the privates, the Ser- 
geants can give the Corporals points in devilish- 
ness, and so it goes on up until the General com- 
manding an army must be one of the devil’s favorite 
imps, while Jeff Davis is Old Horney’s junior part- 
ner.” 

"No ; it isn’t that,” said Rosenbaum. "I’ve known 
■ a good many rebel Generals, unt some of them 
ain’t really bad fellers, outside of their rebelness. 
But old Bragg is a born devil. He has no more heart 
than a rattlesnake. He actually loves cruelty. He’d 
rather kill men than not. I’ve seen plenty of officers 
who were entirely too willing to shoot men for little 
or nothing. General Bragg is the only man 1 ever 
saw who would shoot men for nothing at all — ^just 
'for example,’ as he says, unt to make the others 


254 


SI KLEGG. 


afraid unt ready to obey him. He coolly calculates 
to shoot so many every month. If theyVe done 
anything to deserve it, all right. If they hain’t, he 
shoots them all the same, just to ‘preserve dis- 
cipline.^ 

Si and Shorty uttered exclamations of surprise at 
this cold-blooded cruelty. 

“I know it’s hard to believe,” said Rosenbaum, “but 
it’s true all the same, as anybody around his Head- 
quarters will tell you. Jeff Davis knows it unt 
approves it. He is the same kind of a man as 
General Bragg — no more heart than a tiger. I have 
seen a good deal of the inside of the rebel army, unt 
General Bragg is the coldest-blooded, cruelest man 
in it or in the whole world. It’s true that the men he 
orders shot are generally of no account, like our 
man Jeff Hackberry — but it’s the principle of the 
thing that shocks me. He just takes a dislike to the 
\ way a man looks or acts, or the way he parts his 
\ hair, looks at him with his steely-gray eyes, unt 
\ -says coldly : ‘Put him in the bull-pen.’ In the bull- 
^n the poor devil goes, unt the next time General 
Bragg gets an idea that the discipline of the army is 
^ i;unning down, unt he must stiffen it up with a few 
^»xqc^ops, he orders all the men that happen to be ii> 
the biill-peii-taken out unt shot.” 

“Withouf^ny trial, any court-martial, any evi- 
dence against them ?” gasped Si. 

“Absolutel^%fthout anything but General Bragg’s 
orders. It is like 'you read of in the books about 
those Eastern countries where the Sultan or other 
High-muk-a-muk says, ‘Cut that man’s head off,’ unt 
the man’s head is cut off, unt no questions asked. 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


255 


unt no funeral ceremonies except washing up the 
blood.” 

‘'Lucky for you, Levi,” said Shorty, “that he 
didn’t have any of the common prejudices against 
Jews, and slap you in the bull-pen.” 

“O, but he did,” said Rosenbaum. “He hated a 
Jew worse than any man I ever met. Unt it 
brought me so near death that I actually watched 
them digging my grave. 

“While I had my ups unt downs, unt some very 
narrow escapes,” continued Rosenbaum, “when I 
first went inside Bragg’s lines, I got along very well 
generally. I played the peddler unt smuggler for the 
Southern Confederacy in great shape, unt run them 
through a lot of gun-caps, quinine, medicines, unt so 
so on, unt brought in a great deal of information 
which they found to be true. Some of dis General 
Rosecrans gave me himself, for he is smart enough 
to know that if he wants his Secret Service men to 
succeed he must give them straight goods to carry 
to the enemy. 

“I brought in exact statements of what divisions, 
brigades unt regiments were at this place unt that 
place, how many men was in them, who their com- 
manders were, unt so on. General Rosecrans would 
have these given me. ^ It helped him in his plans to 
know just what information was reaching the enemy, 
for he knew just how old Bragg would act when 
he had certain knowledge. If he knew that Sheri- 
dan withr 6,000 men was at this place, with Tom 
Wood 10 miles away with 6,000 more, he would do 
a certain thing, unt Rosecrans would provide for it. 
The news that I brought in the rebels could test by 


256 


SI KLEGG. 


the reports they got from others, unt they always 
foynd mine correct. 

“My work pleased the rebel Generals so well that 
they made me a Captain in their army, transferred 
me from Brigade Headquarters to Division, unt 
then to Corps Headquarters. I was given command 
of squads of scouts. I can draw very well, unt I 
made good maps of the country unt the roads, with 
the positions of Yankee unt rebel forces. This was 
something that the other rebel spies could not do, 
unt it helped me lots. I was careful to make copies 
of all these maps, unt they got to General Rose- 
crans’s Headquarters. 

“The other rebel spies got very jealous of me be- 
cause I was promoted over them, unt they laid all 
sorts of plans to trip me up. They came awful near 
catching me several times, but I was too smart for 
them, unt could outwit them whenever I got a pointer 
as to what they were up to. Once they watched me 
go to a hollow sycamore tree, which I used as a 
postoffice for Jim Jones to get the things I wanted 
to send to General Rosecrans. They found there 
maps I had made at Shelb5wille, with the positions of 
the rebel un Yankee forces unt the fortifications 
all shown. 

“That was an awful close call, unt I could feel the 
rope tightening around my neck. But I kept my 
nerve, unt told a straight story. I said that that tree 
was my regular office where I kept lots of things that 
I was afraid to carry around with me when I was 
in danger of falling into the Yankee hands, as I was 
every day when I was scouting. Luckily for me I 
had some other private things unt a lot of Confed- 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


257 


erate money hid there, too, which I showed them. 
They didn’t more than half believe my story, but 
they led me off, probably because they needed me so 
bad. 

‘T saw that the thing was only skimmed over, unt 
was ready to break out again any minute worse than 
ever, unt I kept my eyes peeled all the time. That’s 
one reason why you have not seen me for so long. 
I didn’t dare send General Rosecrans anything or 
go near outside the rebel lines. I had to play very 
good, but I kept gathering up information for the 
day when I should make a final break unt leave the 
rebels for good. 

‘'A week ago I was ordered to go up to General 
Bragg’s Headquarters to help them with their maps 
unt reports. They had nobody there that could do 
the work, unt Jeff Davis, who always wants to know 
everything about the armies, was bunching them up 
savagely for full information. He wanted accruate 
statements about the Yankee strength imt positions, 
unt about the rebel strength unt positions, to see if 
he couldn’t do something to pull the Yankees off of 
Pemberton at Vicksburg. Bragg’s Adjutant-Gen- 
eral sent word through all the army for to find good 
rapid penmen unt map-makers, unt I was sent up. 

“The Adjutant-General set me to work under a fly 
near Headquarters, unt he was tickled almost to 
death with the way I did my work. Old Bragg him- 
self used to walk up unt down near, growling unt 
cussing unt swearing at everything unt everybody. 
Once or twice the Adjutant-General called his atten- 
tion to my work. Old Bragg just looked it over, 
grunted, unt bored me through unt through with 


258 


SI KLEGG. 


those sharp, cold, gray eyes of his. But I thought 
I was safe so long as I was at Hearquarters, unt 
I gave a great stiff to other Secret Service men 
who had been trying to down me. 

'‘One morning old Bragg wa sin an awful tem- 
per — the worst I had ever seen. Every word unt 
order was a cruelty to somebody. Finally, up comes 
this Brad Tingle that you have inside. He is a sort of 
a half-spy — ^not brains enough to be a real one, 
but with a good deal of courage unt activity to do 
small work. He had been sent by General Cheat- 
ham to carry some papers unt make a report. What- 
ever it was, it put old Bragg in a worse temper than 
ever. Brad Tingle happened to catch sight of me, 
unt he said in a surprised way : 

" 'Why, there’s that Jew I saw sitting in General 
Rosecrans’s tent talking to him, when I was playing 
ofif refugee Tennesseean in the Yankee camps.’ 

" 'What’s that ? What’s that, my man ?’ said old 
Bragg, who happened to overhear him. 

"Brad Tingle told all he knew about me. Old 
Bragg turned toward me unt give me such a look. 
I could feel those cold, cruel eyes boring straight 
through me. 

" 'Certainly he is a Jew, unt one of old Rose- 
crans’s best spies,’ he said. 'Old Rosecrans is a 
Jew, a Dutch Jew, himself. I knowed him well 
in the old army. He’s got a regular Jew face. He 
plays off Catholic, but that is to hide his Jewish- 
ness. He can’t do it. That hook nose’d give him 
away if nothing else did, unt he has got enough else. 
He likes to have Jews about him, because he under- 
stands them better than he does white people, unt 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


259 


particularly he is fond of Jew spies. He can trust 
them where nobody else can. They’ll be true to him 



because he is a Jew. Put that man in the bull-pen, 
unt shoot him with the rest to-morrow morning.’ 
‘Heavens,’ gasped the Adjutant-General ; *he is 


260 


SI KLEGG. 


by far the best man I ever had. I can’t get along 
without him.’ 

“ 'You must get along without him,’ said old Bragg. 
‘I’m astonished at you having such a man around. 
Where in the world did you pick him up? But it’s 
just like you. How in God’s name Jeff Davis ex- 
pects me to command an army with such makeshifts 
of staff officers as he sends me, I don’t know. He 
keeps the best for old Lee unt sends me what nobody 
else’ll have, unt then expects me to win battles 
against a better army than the Army of the Poto- 
mac. I never got a staff officer that had brains 
once.’ 

“A Sergeant of the Provost Guard, who was a nat- 
ural beast, unt was kept by old Bragg because he 
was glad to carry out orders to murder men, caught 
hold of me by my shoulder unt run me down to the 
bull-pen, leaving the Adjutant-General with forty 
expressions on his angry face. 

“My goodness, my heart sunk worse than ever be- 
fore when I heard the door shut behind me. There 
were 30 or 40 others in the bull-pen. They were all 
lying around — dull, stupid, sullen, silent, unt hope- 
less. They hardly paid any attention to me. I sat 
down on a log, unt my heart seemed to sink clear out 
of me. For the first time in my life I couldn’t see 
the slightest ray of hope. Through the cracks in the 
bull-pen I could see the fresh graves of the men who 
had already been shot, unt while I looked I saw a 
squad of niggers come out unt begin digging the 
graves of those who were to be shot to-morrow. I 
could see rebel soldiers unt officers passing by, stop 
unt look a moment at the graves, shrug their shoul- 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


261 


ders, unt go on. It froze my blood to think that to- 
morrow they would be looking at my grave that way. 
After a while a man came in unt gave each one of us 
a piece of cornbread unt meat. The others ate theirs 
greedily, but I could not touch it. Night came on, 
unt still I sat there. Suddenly the door opened, unt 
the Adjutant- General came in with a man about my 
size and dressed something like me. As he passed he 
caught hold of my arm in a sort of way that made 
me understand to get up unt follow behind him. I 
did so at once without saying a word. I walked be- 
hind him around the bull-pen until we came back to 
the door, when the guard presented arms, unt he 
walked out, with me still behind him, leaving the 
other man inside. After we had gone a little way he 
stopped unt whispered to me : 

“ ‘The General had to go off in a hurry toward War 
Trace this afternoon. He took the Provost-Ser- 
geant unt part of his staff with him, but I had to be 
left behind to finish up this work. I can’t get any- 
body else to do it but you. Pm going to take you 
over to a cabin, where you’ll be out of sight. I want 
you to rush that work through as fast as the Lord’ll 
let you. After you get it done you can go where you 
damned please, so long as you don’t let the General 
set eyes on you. I’ve saved your life, unt I’m going 
to trust to your honor to play fair with me. Help 
me out, do your work right, unt then never let me 
see you again.’ 

“Of course, I played fair. I asked no questions, 
you bet, about the poor devil he had put in my place. 
I worked all that night unt all the next day getting 
his papers in the best possible shape, unt in making 


262 


SI KLEGG. 


copies of them for General Rosecrans, which I stuck 
behind the chimney in the cabin. Along in the morn- 
ing I heard the drums beating as the men were 
marched out to witness the execution. It made my 
heart thump a little, but I kept on scratching away 
with my pen for life unt death. Then the drums 
stopped beating for a while, unt then they begun 
again. Then I heard a volley that made me shiver 
all over. Then the drums beat as the men were 
marched back to their camps. If I had had time to 
think I should have fainted. Towards evening I had 
got everything in first-class shape. The Adjutant- 
General came in. He looked over the papers in a 
very satisfied way, folded them up, checked off from 
a list a memorandum of the papers he had given me 
to copy unt compile, unt saw that I had given them 
all back to him. Then he looked me straight in the 
eye unt said : 

“ ^Now, Jew, there’s no use of my saying anything 
to you. You heard that volley this morning, unt un- 
derstood it. Never let me or the General lay eyes on 
you again. You have done your part all right, unt I 
mine. Good-by.’ 

“He took his papers unt walked out of the cabin. 
As soon as he was gone I snatched the copies that I 
had hidden behind the chimney, stuck them here unt 
there in my clothes, unt started for the outer lines. 

“I made my way to a house where I knew I’d find 
some men who had scouted with me before. I knew 
they might be suspicious of me, but I could get them 
to go along by pretending to have orders from Head- 
quarters for a scout. I got to the house by morning, 
found some of them there, gathered up some more- 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


263 


unt have been riding around all day, looking at the 
Yankee lines, unt trying to find some way to get in- 
side. I’m nearly dead for sleep, but I must have 
these papers in General Rosecrans’s hands before I 
close my eyes.” 

“Your horse is all right, isn’t he?” asked Shorty. 

“Yes, I think so,” answered Rosenbaum. 

“Well, we have a good horse here. I’ll mount him 
and go with you to camp, leaving Si and the rest of 
the boys here. I can get back to them by daylight.” 

So it was agreed upon. 


Day was just breaking when Shorty came gallop- 
ing back. 

“Turn out, boys!” he shouted. “Pack up, and 
start back for camp as quick as you kin. The whole 
army’s on the move.” 

“What’s happened. Shorty?” inquired Si, as they 
all roused themselves and gathered around. 

“Well,” answered Shorty, rather swelling with the 
importance of that which he had to communicate, 
“all I know is that we got into camp a little after 
midnight, and went direct to Gen. Rosecrans’s Head- 
quarters. Of course, the old man was up; I don’t 
believe that old hook-nosed duffer ever sleeps. He 
was awful glad to see Rosenbaum, and gave us both 
great big horns o’ whisky, which Rosenbaum cer- 
tainly needed, if I didn’t, for he was dead tired, and 
almost flopped down after he handed his papers to 
the General. ’ But the General wanted him to stay 
awake, and kept plying him with whisky whenever 
he would begin to sink, and, my goodness, the ques- 
tions he did put at that poor Jew. 


264 


SI KLEGG. 


‘‘I thought we knowed something o’ the country 
out here around us, but, Jerusalem, all that we know 
wouldn’t make a primer to Rosecrans’s Fifth Reader. 
How were the bridges on this road? Where did that 
road lead to ? How deep was the water in this creek ? 
How many rebels were out there? Where was 
Bragg’s cavalry? Where’s his reserve artillery? 
And so on, until I thought he’d run a seine through 
every water-hole in that Jew’s mind and dragged 
out the last minner in it. I never heard the sharpest 
lawyer put a man through such a cross-examination. 

‘'Rosenbaum was equal to everything asked him, 
but it seemed to me that Gen. Rosecrans knowed a 
great deal more about what was inside the rebel 
lines than Rosenbaum did. All this time they was 
goin’ over the papers that Rosenbaum brung, and 
Old Rosey seemed tickled to death to git ’em. He 
told Rosenbaum he’d done the greatest day’s work 
o’ his life and made his fortune. 

“In the meantime the whole staff had waked up 
and gathered in the tents, and while the General was 
pumpin’ Rosenbaum he was sending orders to this 
General and that General, and stirrin’ things up 
from Dan to Beersheba. Lord, you ought t’ve seen 
that army wake up. I wouldn’t ’ve missed it for a 
farm. Everything is on the move — right on the 
jump. We’re goin’ for old Bragg for every cent 
we’re worth, and we want to git back to the regiment 
as quick as our leg’ll carry us. Hustle around, now.” 

“But what’er we goin’ to do with our prisoners?” 
asked Si. 

“Blast the prisoners !” answered Shorty with pro- 
fane emphasis. “Let ’em go to blue blazes, for all 


THE JEW SPY AGAIN. 


265 


that we care. We’re after bigger game than a hand- 
ful o’ measly pennyroyal sang-diggers. . We hain’t no 
time to fool with polecats when we’re huntin’ bear. 
Go off and leave ’em here.” 

‘‘That’s all right,” said Si, to whom an idea oc- 
curred. “Hustle around, boys, but don’t make no 
noise. We’ll march off so quietly that they won’t 
know that we’re gone, and it’ll be lots o’ fun think- 
ing what they’ll do when they wake up and begin 
clapper-clawin’ one another and wonderin’ what their 
fate’ll be.” 










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